A Dish Best Served Cold
by coldqueen
Summary: Elizabeth is captured by enemies and in a freak accident loses all her memories. She returns to Atlantis, where she discovers things are not as they seem, and she'll never be the same. ElizabethRonon
1. For Reasons Unknown

YAY! A long SGA story! It's been a while, my old friends. However, I'm back, and boy do I have a story for you!

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Title: A Dish Best Served Cold

Summary: **Pre-The Return**. Dr. Weir has been taken by persons unknown, and for a month Atlantis is in turmoil. For so long, she's been taken for granted, but as her friends realize just how much they need her, will she ever be returned? Yes, she will, but she's not the same woman who left them.

Rating: T

Characters: Elizabeth Weir, Ronon Dex; John Sheppard, Teyla Emmagen; and all others in various ways, shapes, and forms

A/N: All chapter titles are henceforth songs by the Killers, who I'm listening to as I write this. Also, this is dedicated to Marianne H. Stillie, who inspired me to get started on this, and who, as always, captivates me with her stories...even if Carson is a wuss...

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**Prologue: For Reasons Unknown

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**

Despite what pictures and movies tend to make it seem, a forest at night is neither scenic nor easy to traverse. In point of fact, a forest bottom is usually clogged with plants, roots, and other such easily tripped over things. Any light given by stars above and sometimes, moons, is usually hidden by the tree tops. It's dark, dank, and quite frankly, terrifying, in a forest at night. Sounds from all sides, lost in the trees, and so scatterbrained that you don't know what is up or down, and then you realize you're being chased.

She thought on that as she ran all out through the dark environment. She slammed into trees and shrubbery as she did so, cutting her arms and legs, and though she ached from the impacts and cuts, she still ran. She had no choice.

Behind her, she could hear several others crash through the same path she'd just went through. They were gaining on her, it was easily told. They went through the ways she cleared for them with her very body, avoiding the trees she hit and stepping over the trampled plants she'd flattened with her body. Her head swam, so light, and her feet felt like lead but still she ran. She'd be lying if she said she knew why.

She can't tell you her name, or where she came from, or why she runs. She can tell you that she woke up in the dark and didn't like it there. Slender as a reed, it was easy for her to slip through an opening in the wall, one that was at the edge of this dark forest. Hearing voices coming nearer, she'd taken off, but she didn't know why. Instincts, primal and awakened within in her had demanded that she flee. Danger, her body screamed, even as her mind slowly came up with reasons to stop. She didn't know who chased or why. It was just as possible that she was dangerous and not them, and that they sought to help her.

She ran anyways.

Ahead of her, through the many trees between them, a large circle of light suddenly appeared. Again, something inside her gave her an urge and she followed. That light was good. Through it, she would find answers, of some sort. Something on the other side of it was familiar. She faltered in her run as a vague memory came to the surface of a similar ring, in a large cavernous room. It wasn't so much one memory, as a fleeting remembrance of many memories. She'd always looked at the ring, but had never gone through it, or at least, very rarely.

Pausing briefly, she tried to suck in some oxygen, her lungs burning almost as badly as her legs and arms. Behind her, she could hear the shadowy figures close in. The ring of light was so close. Only yards away, but she couldn't even get the strength to push away from the tree.

Suddenly, the figures were there and they grabbed her arms. She screamed for help, not even knowing who help was, but she screamed anyways. The ring of light disappeared. They began to drag her back from hence she'd ran, and she struggled, gathering her strength, from where, she doesn't know.

Between the two men, if men is what they were, it was hard to tell in the dark. She managed to free one arm, leaning down and grabbing a large branch, she came up swinging. She hit the two men in the heads, knocking one down, but the other came back immediately, knocking the branch away, sending her falling to the ground. He raised his fist, about to deal out some payback, when a twig snapped nearby.

He froze, a figure of shadows, and stepped back into the forest, drawing a weapon from his waist. She watched as behind him, two figures, different in some way, crept up and knocked him out. Suddenly, no warning, she was picked up from behind, and instinctively she started to struggle, a scream tearing its way out of her throat, never reaching the air as the man calmly palmed her mouth shut.

"Quiet. We're here to help."

She froze, a deer in headlights, her large brown eyes fixed determinedly on the man's poorly lit face. He was handsome, his features carved from stone, and vaguely familiar. His hair was light, that much she could tell in the dark; that and that he was very strong, standing easily cradling her.

"Why were they chasing you?"

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak, a sign of some dis-use recently. She had the disconcerting feeling that this was something that didn't happen often.

"It's okay. We're gonna get you out of here," the man reassured, sending some sort of head signal to the others within a few feet. They stepped from the shadows, eyeing the two fallen enemies. They all wore similar clothing, all in black, a uniform of sorts. As one, they started to move away from the encampment where she'd escaped. Toward the strange ring of light that was even now gone.

She wrapped her arms around the man's shoulders and felt a stirring of an urge, one she had no intention of indulging. After all, was it really appropriate to lick your hero's ear?

"What's your name?" The man asked, stepping into a small clearing where a large circle of metal stood, held up by a small platform. She ignored his question and watched as one of the other figures stepped up to a small device near the platform and began to do something. Suddenly, the circle began to move and without warning a large flash of light blinded her. The ring of light had returned.

"I don't know," she finally answered, her voice hoarse but clear.

"You don't know?" He asked, starting towards the ring, still carrying her.

"I can't remember. I don't remember...well...I remember, but I don't. Some things, but not a lot."

He nodded as if he came across this sort of situation all the time. "Well...you can call me Shal."

"Shal?" She asked, her eyebrow quirked.

"It's short for Shalimar."

She nodded as if she came across a blond Adonis named Shalimar everyday. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're returning to me home, where we can prolly get you help."

"I don't need help."

"Yeah, sure."

"You're patronizing me."

"That's an awful big word to say to a soldier."

"Need a dictionary?"

Shal laughed as he carried the mystery woman through the Stargate.

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John Sheppard was angry. Now, John, usually a congenial man, always with the sexy grin and a quick quip, wasn't usually seen angry, or rather, not at this level of angry.

"What do you mean, you don't know!?" The poor victims of this yell of fury were a dozen men, equally divided between off-world teams of Atlantis. The two teams had been assigned to protect Atlantis's leader, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, as she started talks with a rival people, the Genii, and the possibility of a permanent alliance. Just ten minutes ago, the teams had walked through the gate, and Dr. Weir had been nowhere in sight.

The leader of one of the teams stepped forward. "There was a fight when Kolya showed up. Somewhere in the all the chaos, we lost her."

"Why didn't you call me? Call us so we could send teams to look?!" Sheppard demanded, in Dr. Weir's office, behind her desk, and yelling in a voice she'd never have used.

"The building the meeting took place in collapsed. Besides, she's not there."

"How do you know if we didn't look?!"

"Because we have a tape showing Kolya and his men leaving through the Stargate with her."

John calmed down enough to take the tape. "Leave. You'll debrief with Rodney," he said scornfully.

The men left slowly, guilt and failure written on their faces. From the other side of the room, Colonel Caldwell and two others watched as the teams left. It was Caldwell who stepped forward and took the tape.

"We'll look over the tape; see if we can get an address from it. We'll get her back," he added for comfort's sake, though the three other tenants of the room didn't care for it. Saying nothing more, he left to go down to one of the technical labs. Truth was, this wasn't his command, but in Weir's absence, who better to take control?

John disagreed, and took the seat behind the desk, gesturing for Teyla and Ronon to seat themselves across from him. "I knew we should've went with her."

Teyla inclined her head, her face calm and peaceful even in the face of this very bad news. "It was a stipulation that we not join her. There is history between us and the Genii."

John looked at her. "You think it was a set-up?"

"I did not say that."

Ronon sat there silently. He'd never been one for speaking when silence sufficed. His long hair was wrapped and knotted into locks, and he idly toyed with the end of one. What did this news mean to him? He didn't really have feelings on it. While Sheppard was angry, and yes, slightly guilty, Teyla was peaceful, perhaps leaving her more passion-driven emotions behind locked doors. Ronon didn't need to leave them behind closed doors, because he rarely felt them at all. Seven years of running from the Wraith, acting on instinct and doing what he felt he must; most hypothesized that that left him little more than an animal. The women of this complex in particular went to great lengths to try and provoke the animal in him. None of them truly understood that he wasn't an animal, and never had been. Seven years of acting like one didn't make him think like one. He'd shut down inside, gone numb to the pain and chaos he'd caused wherever he'd traveled. Being emotionless, but primal, was very different from being an animal.

He did wish that Cadman would stop leaving him notes asking for a "date" for dinner, though. He was sure that any day now Dr. Beckett would find out and try to hurt Ronon. Since he was a doctor, Ronon doubted his vengeance would be given in a conventional way.

Back to the situation at hand, Ronon watched as his friend torn himself up inside over things not done. Ronon started to speak. "They took her for a reason. I don't think she's dead." He said it trying to put a good light on the situation.

John grinned angrily. "Thank you, that's comforting."

Ronon shrugged.

Teyla tried to offer another solution. "We've dealt with Kolya before. It cannot be terribly difficult to track him down again."

John nodded. "Yeah. He's not too smart, you know?"

The duo across from him nodded, their thoughts alternately fatalistic, optimistic, and vaguely pessimistic mixed with hungry. They sat there for a few minutes, and thought on plans to be made.

Plans that would be put into effect, and fail in succession. As it was, it would be over a month until they even got a good lead, as feeble as it was. In the meantime, chaos would erupt in Atlantis. She was more valuable to them than any of them had realized.


	2. Bling

Yay for the reviews I've received! It's so nice to know my writing is appreciated.

Now, let's talk about this...I've gotten a reputation? REALLY? For what?

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**Chapter Two: Bling (Confession of a King)

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**

Atlantis, for all it's centralized activity, was still a hive of corridors and compartments, all with a purpose in the day to day existence of the city. For two years now, slowly but surely, that activity has begun to spread out amongst the cavernous city of the Ancients, all whilst the "teams" went out and explored the gargantuan proportions of the new galaxy they inhabited.

For all these months, spending almost half his time on other planets, getting shot at, doing the shooting, getting hit on, or doing the hitting, had made Lt. Colonel Sheppard a bit of a novice as to the intricacies of keeping such a city as theirs cohesive and smoothly running.

In point of fact, he wasn't good at it. Not a little bit, not at all.

The first week following Elizabeth's disappearance had been chaos, all around. The laundry had stop running as the fragile handmaidens of cleanliness broke out crying over the missing "queen" of Atlantis. The cooks (who were oddly mostly male) threw hissy fits over every little thing. John had delighted in stepping back and letting the "superior" officer handle things for that week, and the second.

By the third week, Colonel Caldwell had run back to his ship on the pretense of it being time to return to Earth. John knew the truth behind Mr. Clean's about face. The man simply couldn't handle the task of guiding Atlantis. Smiling serenely and proud, John had stepped in and taken over for Caldwell...and immediately stepped into shit.

Between the bickering scientists and dueling budgets, the abundance of papers (who really needed three copies of everything?), not to mention the personnel squabbles, the trade negotiations, the overseeing of further exploration of the city, the excavation of un-numbered amounts of sites, and the re-selection of an "alpha site", it was any wonder John got any sleep at all! It is interesting to note, that while he didn't get much sleep, he had ample time to flirt with the new arrivals of bosom buddies.

One month after she went missing, seven teams out looking for her, the Genii base searched top to bottom twice, and a migraine almost constantly behind his right eye (his left eye had a tick), and John almost felt a semblance of insanity pressuring him to pick up the ornate letter opener on Elizabeth's desk and stab Rodney in the eye. Twice.

Leaning back in the desk chair, wishing that this room had a dimmer switch, John listened for the third time (today) as Radek and McKay argued. Just as the prior two times, John had very little, if any, idea of what they were talking about.

"This experiment is integral to the future of the city, and some willy nilly tests you want to run on the nervous system in the science wing are not going to cause me to abandon this project!" Rodney McKay yelled (for the third time, word for word) at his subordinate Dr. Radek Zelenka. Zelenka, a glasses-wearing, children-hating, Czech of questionable temper, was screaming right back.

"We've been experiencing surges in the energy for over a week causing countless problems, and you and your stupid pointless plankton gene manipulation and extrapolation observation is going nowhere!"

"There is a very likely chance," Rodney started, "that the Ancient arrival here could have circumvented the evolution of a species that would eventually have become on par with our own in both temperament and technology!"

"Hey!" John interrupted as the two scientists surged to their feet. Though neither of them seemed physically inclined, they looked like they were about to come to blows. John gave a small consideration to letting them, if only to enjoy the girl-screams they would surely emit as they slap-fought.

"What?" Radek and Rodney asked as they dropped back into their seats.

John continued in that quiet "I'm so sensible and gosh darn cute" voice of his, "Why can't you just put the plank experiment on hold for a few hours so Zelenka can run a few tests?"

Rodney look offended at the suggestion, his eyes wide and holding his breath. "He wants to shut down the all energy going into that wing to run those stupid tests! Without power, the plankton in the tank would die." John hated it when Rodney talked as if he was explaining things to a child. What the hell was plankton anyways?

"It is necessary, Colonel Sheppard," Radek stressed, "these surges have shorted out three computer systems, ruined two other vital experiments, and caused the transporter to shut down, isolating two of the excavation teams in unexplored sections of the city."

John nodded slowly. "That sounds serious."

The duo across from him stared at him over the desk. Elizabeth's desk cluttered with Elizabeth's things, and here he was sitting there, an Elizabeth imposter. Radek and Rodney were clearly expecting an answer.

"Okay...Dr. Zelenka, run your tests," John held up a hand (very Elizabeth-like in his patience) and halted Rodney's renewed vehemence, "and Rodney can moved his plankto somewhere else."

Rodney gaped while Zelenka looked satisfied. "But...it's a 300 gallon tank! I've been preparing this experiment for months!"

John smiled maliciously. "Then you'll just have to start over."

Radek was already moving to leave, and Rodney, still gaping, rose to follow. As he drifted into the control center, he could be heard muttering vaguely threatening words, apparently directed at the interim leader Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Even as John moved to close his door, hoping for a few moments peace before Major Lorne's team would return from another verified gate address ("verified" meaning there was a gate and a world on the other end), Ronon and Teyla slipped through, taking the recently vacated seats of "discord".

The door firmly shut, John began a time-honored practice, one he enjoyed in his time off, as sparse as that was.

**Bump.**

Teyla and Ronon watched with matching serenely amused looks on their faces.

**Bump.**

It somehow eased the pain of the day-to-day tediousness that he'd embraced in Elizabeth's absence.

**Bump.**

Then again...

**Bump.**

Slamming one's head into the wall couldn't be a good sign of mental health.

**Bump.**

With a sigh, Sheppard returned to the seat of power and stared at his two friends, who were just as "out of action" as he was.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked with a small smile.

"We were wondering..." Teyla started.

Ronon finished. "We want assigned to another team."

John quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

Teyla shot an irritated look at Ronon, before turning back to John. "With Elizabeth still gone, and you assigned here, Ronon and I are at a bit of a loss. Since we cannot go out as a team of three, and without a leader, we would like to be temporarily," she stressed temporary, just as everyone stressed temporary. Elizabeth would be coming back, because the people of Atlantis would accept nothing less, "assigned to another team."

"Well, if you need something to do, I can find you things here on Atlantis," John started.

Ronon interrupted. "We want to go out."

John sighed. "I want to go out," he replied with all the petulance of a five-year-old child. Teyla laughed as he pouted. Teyla and Ronon had, in the past month, spent more than one day keeping him from going insane or drowning in paperwork. They'd done thankless jobs, just to save him the trouble of it. In the end, they were explorers, gypsies at heart, aching for the wonder and awe of new worlds.

John ignored the Cher song in the back of his head, and stood. "If that's what you want, then I can do it."

He intended to say more, but at that moment the gate began to dial, and Lorne's team was incoming. He shrugged and headed into the control room, watching as the wormhole opened, Teyla and Ronon at his back. The control room was unusually hushed, but it had been for weeks. The absence of their fearless leader had driven many people to a morale low, and John was at a loss for how to fix it.

He sighed and leaned back against the console, watching as yet again, the exploring team returned, and it wasn't him and his friends. However, watching Lorne and his three fellow teammates walk through that silvery light set a spark of expectation in him. All four had big grins on their faces.

Walking quickly to the door and staring down at the four men, John looked at them expectedly, imagining a goldmine or a bevy of beautiful women, or even a weapon against the Wraith created by an underground alien people who were all women and all beautiful and wore tons of gold.

He did not expect Lorne's proud exclamation.

"We found Dr. Weir!"


	3. This River is Wild

Sorry for the long time before update. I just finished another story, and it was a very long last chapter, so it took a bit to finangle it out of my MIND. Also, though I had this written, DOCUMENT MANAGER WAS NOT WORKING AND IT WAS TRYING TO DESTROY ME.

A/N: All irreverant writing in this chapter must be blamed on Douglass Adams, as I was rereading his Hitchhiker series when I wrote this.

Here ya go, though...

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**Chapter Two: This River is Wild

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**

Now, in a normal situation, with all the normal cast in their usual placements, an exclamation such as that would be met with calm but critical questioning, in a schedule debriefing that allowed for all members of the team to get their medical check-up, a meal, and a shower, if not a night's rest, before they underwent it. However, this was not a normal situation, and everyone was out of sync, placed in positions that they had never quite encountered and were not comfortable with.

Ergo, when Major Lorne made such an exclamation, a roar of approval went up from the control room, with many hugs, kisses, and inappropriate touching taking place as the thought that they would be getting their favorite, and most capable, commander and chief back. In fact, it's interesting to point out, that though Colonel Sheppard has never before done such a thing, at the news of a possible lead, and the surety with which Lorne said it made it a certainty in Shep's head, Colonel Sheppard planted a large smacking kiss directly on Lorne's lips, and though it's only rumored, it's widely believed that he did indeed use tongue.

Teyla and Ronon merely cocked their heads to the side and in the way that they had, were greatly amused by the sight of the two men. For some odd reason, Rodney looked crushed, though he perked up when he remembered why the exuberant celebration and intimacies were erupting everywhere.

Pushing Sheppard away, Lorne wiped his mouth and blushed. "Stop that!"

Sheppard shrugged and wrapped an arm around Lorne's shoulders, practically dragging him into the nearest debriefing room. Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and what seemed to be the entire control room crew, followed.

Pushing the Major into a seat, Sheppard forced himself to compose; drawing all that giddiness into himself, he sobered up and calmly took a seat across from Lorne. Ronon and Teyla stood at his back, silent sentinels of security, and Rodney took a seat between the two men, anxiously wringing his hands. The dozens stuck in the doorframe were completely silent as they strained to hear what was going to be said.

"Now, Major," _let's ignore the kiss_, went unsaid, so Sheppard skipped saying it, "explain yourself."

Lorne grinned. "Well, we were sent to make contact with an advanced world, one we only recently became aware of through the trading post inside the asteroid belt in Sector Five. Well, when we got there, we were forced to surrender our weapons and interrogated heavily most of the day. It's why we didn't contact you."

"I'm aware," Sheppard replied, noting that had Lorne not checked in when he had, Sheppard would have sent another team in.

"Well, once we convinced the people there that we weren't Wraith-collaborators, they were perfectly happy to let us explore. We started talks about a possible alliance, and they were perfectly happy to talk with us."

Rodney interrupted. "Are they advanced? Or is this another primitive people we're going to have to protect?"

Teyla glared at Rodney. "What does that mean?"

Under the death glare of Emmagen, Rodney paled. "Nothing."

Lorne smiled. "That's just it. They're advanced. Their population is very small, barely a couple million, but they're at Earth's level, from what I can see. Their planet is located within a nebula, protected within a pocket of safe space, the Wraith venture there but once every hundred years. They know the people are there, but it's almost impossible to get there by ship without taking heavy damage."

"What does this have to do with Dr. Weir?" Ronon asked, impatient to get to the point of the story.

Lorne smiled. "Well, we were investigating their version of a night club-"

"Investigating?" Rodney questioned with a small but snarky smile. "A nightclub?"

Lorne grinned sheepishly. "What? We were invited."

"Get on with it!" Sheppard said loudly, glaring at Rodney, mentally sending him a message to shut up.

"Okay, so, I was investigating the drinks and the women serving them, when I looked over at the entrance and saw someone I did not expect to see."

An expectant silence filled the room. Everyone knew the answer, and just wanted Lorne to say it. See, if he said it, then it must be true, because everyone knows soldiers never lie. However, Lorne had a sense for the dramatic and paused for a few seconds before grinning and speaking again.

"Dr. Weir."

While the control room broke into applause (again), and hugged and kissed each other (again), Sheppard stared at Lorne calmly (and wondered if he was really such a bad leader that orgies ensued when Elizabeth was even mentioned as returning). "Do you have proof?"

Lorne continued to smile. "I had one of my team record her, so that we could be sure before we went to get her."

Rodney stood up. "Give it to me."

It was a command, and with a small grin, the small female of Lorne's team squeezed through the crowd and dropped the camera into Rodney's hands. Due to the advanced nature of Atlantis, all recordings played on the system became 3D, and after plugging the camera into a conduit, the roomful of people, and the many people outside, stared at the Hologram forming above the table. At first, all they could see was a jumble of gyrating people, moving to some unheard music. Oh, and there was also a very large thumb appearing in half of the hologram, but that was removed very quickly.

Rodney began to work at a keyboard and suddenly a loud beating music began to echo out of the small unobtrusive speakers in the walls. It had lots of drums to it, very Cuban mixed with African. There was also some sort of violin-like quality to the fore-music, making it very ethereal, yet still quite familiar in it's origins. With the audio restored, Rodney went to working at isolating the part of the recording that supposedly held Elizabeth.

Zooming in at a point on the far part of the hologram, the focus went past the crowd of people, and focused on the woman standing alone in the entrance to the club, her arms wrapped around herself securely. The hair was shorter, and curlier, and she was wearing a floor-brushing trench coat of a sort, but it was undoubtedly Dr. Weir.

Sheppard and everyone else leaned closer, studying the now frozen hologram, taking in every inch of the face (and on the part of the men, and one of the women, they studied the body too). Finally, Colonel Sheppard smiled. "That's her." He turned that gleefully child-like look in his eyes on Lorne. "Anything else to add?"

"Yeah...how come no one told me that Dr. Weir had mile long legs that went from the floor all the way to Heaven!?"

Sheppard's eyebrows flew up, and everyone turned back to the hologram just in time to watch Rodney hit play, and the coat hit the floor revealing a tan, long-limbed Dr. Weir strutting down the stairs in a mini-dress that left little to the imagination. Like Lorne had said, legs that went from the floor all the way to Heaven, starting with strappy heels that no one imagined Dr. Weir had ever even owned, leading the gaze of the crowd up those limbs to the glittery skirt that started inches below Heaven, and stopped inches above her navel, revealing amounts of skin that were delectable in their glory.

Teyla hoped no one slipped in the puddles of drool accumulating on the floor.


	4. Midnight Show

Are you ready for Elizabeth? Are you?

Or do you just think you are? Either way...LETS PLAY.

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**Chapter 3: Midnight Show

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**

She doesn't look like the type of girl you'd see in a dark nightclub, one full of bad people and worse crimes. She doesn't look the type; until she removes that shiny veneer of innocence and begins to move through the crowd with the kind of slinkiness usually associated with cats, big and dangerous jungle cats. She moves with a grace that deserves a stage to move on, but the look on her eyes is hungry enough that she might frighten any audience watching.

She stalks down the stairs, hips swinging, eyes dancing, the urge to leap into the crowd of gyrating strangers before her quite clear. Instead, she pauses at the bottom and looks over her shoulder at the shadows behind, and the tall blond man who steps from them. He smiles at her and holds his hand out for her coat. With a laugh, she hands it to him and waits for him to join her.

Even just standing there, the music gets to her. Her hips swing back and forth, her fingers moving to the beat. Her feet tap, and her head bops. She lowers her eyelids and spins in place, the urge to just move so fierce inside her that it practically dances in the air around her.

The man, clearly a soldier, hands off her coat, and his, to a clerk, before jumping down the stairs, and grabbing her arm. "We gotta find the guys."

She pouts at him, still slowly moving to the music. "Why?"

"Because they're here to watch our backs, and I asked them to come."

She sighs, and wraps her arm around one of his, and together they part the crowd and head for the wall of tables. The guys ogle the minidress she wears, or rather, what the dress doesn't cover; and the man gets his own share of looks, being of the tall, broad-shouldered Adonis-type. Together, they make quite a pair, god and goddess, both with their own type of power about them.

Reaching the other side of the floor, the man holds her hand and helps her up the stairs, taking the chance to ogle her mile-long legs and share a commiserating look with a table of fellow soldiers near the wall. He doesn't know the soldiers, but he knows their kind, and notes the special interest they take in his charge.

His charge, a refugee who remembered being called "Bethie" sometime in her past, caught sight of the men they were seeking and broke his grip to jog ahead. With a loud laugh and a swing of dark curls, she took the last remaining seat at the table, and stole the drink of the tallest man of the bunch, and also the darkest. He grinned at her, a flash of white in all that dark, and removed the drink from her hands.

"I don't think our superiors would appreciate us taking you out and getting you drunk, Beth."

Beth laughed and took the drink back. "You didn't take me out. Shal over there," she nodded at the approaching blond, "snuck me out. I don't think the drinking is going to be a concern."

At that point, Shal, short for Shalimar, strode up and grasping Beth's arm pulled her from the seat and sank into it with a sigh. Beth, stuck standing there, shrugged and slipped into the arms of the darker man with a laugh. It wasn't a sexy laugh, but rather a comfortable one, telling any audience that might be watching that she was friends with this man, and little else. The man, also a soldier, and second to Shalimar in rank, had been named Gordiny at birth, but preferred to be called Gordy. He was taller that Shalimar, and in Beth's opinion, a whole lot nicer.

"Aww, Gordy, I think I exhausted our leader."

"Must be all that hot sex," Gordy commented.

Beth laughed. "I wish."

"Aww, not satisfying you?"

"Won't even try," she replied, watching with interest as Shal began to blush.

"How many times must I tell you? You are under my protection, I am not taking advantage!" He yelled, drawing glances from surrounding tables and causing himself to blush more.

For their part, the other five men at the table, excluding Gordy, laughed their asses off. It was common knowledge that for the past month, since the team had rescued Beth from a Genii-controlled world, that Beth had a crush on Shal, and that though Shal reciprocated, duty and honor kept him from following up.

Since that night they rescued Beth, they had spent most of the month alternately escorting her between safe points on their homeworld, and hanging out. This was, in fact, the first time Beth had been "allowed" to interact with their people since she'd arrived. The militia had been worried that, first, she had some virus that might contaminate what little populace they had left, two, that she would remember her homeworld and recruit the people into following her home, or three, that she was a danger of some sort. It turns out that the third option was the true one. Within days of rescuing Beth, Genii leader Kolya had contacted the militia here and demanded her return, citing that she was a prisoner of war. Since the only way Kolya fought was with the Wraith, and Beth was no Wraith, Beth had been sent into hiding while Kolya came and "searched for her" himself.

Beth had no idea why this Kolya wanted her so bad, nor did she knew why just the mention of his name terrified her. What she did know was that these men were the reason she wasn't in his hands, and that even when she had no idea who or what she was, they were her friends. It meant more to her than they realized.

As the men began to joke around, making light of the situation, Beth studied their faces. Shalimar had a hard face, one made such by years of leading. He had a scar over his right eyebrow; splitting it and giving him a debonair air that made her salivate...just a little. He also had the body of a god, with abs hard enough to bounce a quarter off of, and arms that begged to be kissed. He also had an ass that looked like two pigs fighting in a blanket. Add in those boy-next-door looks and what more could a girl ask for? A good personality for one.

Of course, she didn't really need Shal for the good personality, she had Gordy for that. Sweet, affable Gordy, just as hard and tough as Shal, though nowhere near as attractive. After taking shrapnel to the face whilst saving Shalimar's life, they told her, he'd been scarred and had for almost a year barely spoke. Before that, she was told, he was more attractive than even Shal. Beth had a certain fondness for Gordy. He didn't smile often, but she liked to think that since she'd "joined" their team that he did do it more often. His laugh was enough to brighten a room, and his eyes were usually dancing with mirth, even if he didn't express it vocally.

Between those two men, she had all the entertainment and protection she truly needed. Still, as a matter of principle, more often than not, five other soldiers joined them, though they never knew who she was, or why she had to be moved around so often. It was better for them that way. Less dangerous.

Sipping the drink she'd stolen, almost gagging on it, and setting it back down, Beth brought herself out of that little self-induced stupor and gently slapped Shal on the arm. "Are you not going to ask me to dance?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "No."

"Why not?"

"We didn't come here to dance."

"Then why did we come to the dance club, Shalimar?"

"So you could get some fresh air."

"So you could drink."

"I do not need to drink, though admittedly around you I get the urge," he said smartly, sipping his just arrived ale to prove it. Behind her, Gordy stifled a laugh, before wrapping a long arm around her waist and standing.

"I'll dance with you, Bethie!" He yelled, before twirling her around and pulling her toward the floor. Behind them, Shal turned to watch their progress, taking note that once gain, when Beth walked by, the table of soldiers avidly watched. One of them had a camera of some sort, and had focused it directly on Beth, who now swung around back and forth to Gordy. When she'd first arrived here, she'd had longer hair, deep and rich and dark like the bark of a very old tree. When Kolya had arrived searching for her, Shal had convinced her to hack it all off to within an inch. It made her face seemed younger somehow. In the weeks since arriving, her face had lost years of stress, and many of the worry lines she'd arrived with had dissipated.

Shalimar watched her move, her body long and thin, but not to the point of emaciation. It was more lean muscle than anything. After a week of examinations, the doctor told him that her memory would come back with time, but there was nothing they could do to force it. They'd also told him that when she'd arrived, she'd had small burns on her wrists and feet, as if from some sort of restraint. She'd also had a blow to her head, which is what they believed caused her memory loss.

He had no doubt that Kolya had caused her those wounds, and just thinking about it made his hands clench in anger. He disliked a man who threatened a woman, but he hated a man who lifted his hand to one. Kolya had once been his people's ally, but given radically different morals and ideas, they'd long since broken alliance. A month ago, Shalimar and Gordy had been dispatched to an unknown planet for a meeting with Kolya, who'd tried to get them involved in what was surely a foolish dream.

Shalimar supposed that next time, before he beat the hell out of Kolya for hurting Beth, he should thank him, since without that meeting, Shal would never have met her and rescued her. Even if he didn't follow up on it, he did care for her. She had a vulnerability to her that she tried to hide, but never quite succeeded. There was also something else to her, something she didn't hide, and wasn't aware of. She was used to leading, to being listened to. It made Shalimar wonder just what she'd been before her Kolya got her.

Turning around, Shalimar gestured for ale, and watched morosely as the other soldiers at the table stood to take stations at various places around the room. They were good kids, but very young. They weren't "in" on the situation, and wouldn't be. Kolya was questioning every one and he couldn't risk them spilling the information about Beth. The cover story Gordy had told them was that they were escorting a higher ups' daughter on the town. They believed it with the foolish faith of the young.

Suddenly, a man pulled a chair from the table and sat. He studied Shalimar's face, and the veiled eyes that studied him in return. "Who was that woman just with you?"

Suddenly, Shalimar didn't seem so relaxed anymore. He didn't move, not a muscle, but the new man at the table knew all the same that the man was prepared to attack and defend. "Why?"

"I know her."

Shalimar leaned forward, setting his drink on the table, and removing a blade from his thigh sheath without the other man seeing. "How so?"

"Her name is Elizabeth, and she is the leader of my expedition. She's been missing for a month, and we've been searching everywhere."

"And who are you?"

"Major Evan Lorne." The man said proudly, pointing to his name on his jacket, and reaching out to shake Shalimar's hand. "You can call me Mark. It's my middle name."

"You have a middle name?"

"Yeah. Evan Marcus Lorne."

"My people only use one name. We've no need for more." He didn't point out that they didn't have a real need of surnames when so little of his people still lived.

Mark nodded, before gesturing at Beth again, who now moved through the crowd single-mindedly, heading back for the table. "How do you know her?"

Shalimar watched Beth approach and stood, bringing Mark with him. "I don't want her to see you. Meet me here tomorrow, in the morning. We'll see if you can make me believe you, then."

Major Lorne looked incredulously at first, but the vaguely threatening nature of Shalimar, and the apparent ease with which Elizabeth interacted with him convinced him to leave the situation as it was, for now. It was hard for him to do, but Mark left Elizabeth in Shalimar's capable hands and returned to the table to inform his team of what was going down.

Beth watched as the soldier hurried by, pointedly not looking at her, but ignored it in favor of leaping into Shalimar's arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist so she wouldn't immediately slide to the floor.

"Having fun?" He asked.

"I am. Who was that?"

"No one. Wanted to know if I was attracted to him." It was hard to lie to her, even such a bad lie as that, but he didn't want her to know that someone had approached him about her.

A horrible idea occurred to Beth, one so horrible that it explained Shalimar's lack of want to mate with her. "You weren't, were you?"

Shalimar laughed at the horror on her face. "No."

She relaxed. "Oh, that's good. Are you attracted to me?"

"I'm not answering that."

"You don't have to, I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

"I'm straddling your waist, and let's just say you're not as soft as you used to be."

Shalimar blushed and put her down. "Where's Gordy?"

"Getting me a drink."

"Just what we need."

"I like getting tipsy."

"Yeah, well," Shalimar started, "Tipsy Beth sneaks into my bed at night."

"Non-tipsy Beth does too."

"Non-tipsy Beth is quieter about it."

* * *

Major Mark Lorne stopped speaking, looking around him at the dozens of people avidly watching him. The crowd included Interim Atlantis Leader John Sheppard, as well as his team, the entire Science Department, the entire Control Room crew, the cooks, and various other exploration teams as well. It was a very crowded room.

Rodney, even though he'd been shoved to the back of the room several times, elbowed in the face twice, kicked in the shin thrice, and punched in the stomach (not so accidentally) once, squeezed his way to the front and stood there, hands on his hips. "And?"

"And what?"

"What happened?!" Rodney practically screamed, his voice going high enough to have been a girl's.

"We met, and he agreed to allow me to return and present more evidence that she is who I say she is."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Lorne looked entirely too pleased with himself, whilst Rodney looked ready to blow. Everyone was frustrated with the lack of progress, and even this lead, maybe the actual finding of Elizabeth, didn't ease that frustration.

Fighting the urge to poke Rodney in the cheek and dispel all that pent up air, John stood and ran his hand down his face. "Okay. Tomorrow, I'll return to the planet in your place and meet with this Shady character."

"His name is Shalimar."

"Okay, with this Shalimar character." John replied smartly to Teyla's observation, turning to glare at her.

"Who'll run things here while you run and do that?" Rodney asked, his eyebrows sky high, even as he quickly input data into his notepad. Multi-tasking is another of his many, highly developed skills.

"You will."

A collective groan filled the room, shaking the foundations of Atlantis, and causing two unoccupied rooms in the abandoned sectors of Atlantis to collapse.


	5. Smile Like You Mean It

Sorry for the long wait for an update. Christmas season LONG SHIFTS AT WORK. I've been working nine-hour-shifts for the past week and a half, and it's really dragged down my writing. So, bear with me for the holidays, mon amours?

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A/N: As usual, I'm thoroughly devoted to my fellow ROZ writer, Marianne, and to my loyal fans.

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Disclaimer: For some reason, my BFF Eileen sent me Father Flannigan stamps and thought he looked like Joe Flannigan...I KID! I KID! She said the name brought up Joe...who to those out you not up on the credits...is Colonel Sheppard. (Pssht, losers!)

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**Chapter 4: Smile Like You Mean It**

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There are certain rules that are unanimous and unspoken amongst the militaristic sects of all civilizations that have ever been formed during the time of Written History. Since History is written, then the rules are really only passed along by DNA imprinting, IE the tin soldiers of everywhere and anywhere just _know_.

The first rule is about emotional control. A true warrior knows that whilst passion can be good in other pursuits, in combat situations, it can only lead to mistakes. Go in level-headed, and you come out with your head. Rage can only lead to death or injury.

The second rule is about body. A true warrior keeps himself in fit condition, at all times. There is a small subsection to this rule, in that, there are two types of warriors. One type is that of the "lean and mean" variety. Some men, to their own dismay, are more physically composed of skinny and less of bulk. This leads them to overworking their bodies until they're very hard, yet still, not bulky. They are "lean and mean". The second type is the "big and ugly" type. Now, understand, "ugly" does always apply. The "big and ugly" type of body is large, in charge, and usually impotent (damn steroids!). This body type usually occurs in the taller men, and is acquired quite naturally. Some men just develop better than others, nothing wrong with being lean, though.

The third rule is about the mind, and it directly ties into the body rule. "Lean and Mean" body types are more inclined to be leaders, as well as more intelligent and savvy than any other warrior. The "big and ugly" warriors are commonly referred to as "thugs" for a reason. (Exceptions to this rule are far and between, yet still known to occur.)

The fourth rule is that warriors never smile, and in the rare occasions that they do, it must be done so in a thoroughly warrior-like way.

Taking into account these rules, was it any wonder that Colonel Sheppard's team and Shalimar's did not get along at first sight? Or second sight?

Colonel Sheppard, most definitely of the "Lean and Mean" variety approached the group of warriors awaiting on the other side of the wormhole, and was surprised to find that Elizabeth was not waiting there as well. Almost a month without sight of his leader, and Johnny Boy was feeling angsty, and his greeting reflected.

"Where's she at?"

Shalimar stared down the smaller man, his muscles clenching attractively as he readied himself, instinctively he told himself, for any actions that might come. Sheppard's team was a small one, consisting of the Colonel, a woman, and two men (if the small balding one counted as a man). Drawing his attention back to the leader of the group, Shalimar cocked his head to the side and eyed him down. "You're not seeing anyone until I'm convinced you're not with Kolya."

Rodney stepped forward slightly, drawing the hostile welcoming committee's attention. It was only really Shalimar, Gordy, and a couple more soldiers, yet still quite intimidating. "You're familiar with Kolya?"

Shal grinned mirthlessly. "We've met."

"So have we!" Rodney exclaimed, ready to rush into his "let's kick Genii ass together" speech, but Sheppard cut him short.

"We're not here about Kolya," _at least not yet_, Sheppard thought to himself, "we're here about Elizabeth."

The large black man beside Shalimar (whose name Sheppard only knew from description by Lorne) stepped forward slightly. "Why are you so anxious to see her?"

Sheppard looked at the man like he was an idiot (which Gordy so did not appreciate). "Because we've not seen her for a month, and she's our friend. Because she's our leader, and our expedition is in chaos without her. Because Rodney's silly squabbles with the other kids means he doesn't get recess until they're settled, and I don't want to, so Elizabeth has to." This little speech had little to no affect on the "aliens", but did wonders for the spirits of most of the team (excluding Rodney, who sorely missed his recess).

"You're not seeing anyone until we're convinced you're not working with Kolya," Shal repeated, firm in this edict. Behind him, his soldiers, the trained and elite and chosen by his hand, stepped into a "V" formation to flank him, proving the way impassible for the Atlantians.

Sheppard grinned, but it looked more like a baring of his teeth with his eyes all angry like they were (a true warrior's smile). "For a trading post, you're really not very friendly."

"We trade, but we're not stupid."

"Oh, reaaaaaally?"

Shal narrowed his eyes, ready to step forward and take the scrawny little punk to the mat, maybe teach him a lesson. Behind his group, however, a small commotion was growing. Seeing a small signal from the controller's room near the side of the large embankment where the Gate was located, Shal stepped aside and gestured for Shep and his team to follow.

Within seconds, the Gate opened a new wormhole, and Kolya himself was dragged into the room. Sheppard instinctively pulled his weapon and aimed, his recent trails at the hands of this madman fresh in his mind. Shal, with a small movement of his head, stopped his soldiers from attacking, and watched the scene that followed.

Sheppard glared at the older brunet, something akin to hatred in those baby blues. "You!"

Kolya likewise glared from his own brown eyes. "You!"

"You!"

"You!"

This continued for a few seconds, before Sheppard broke the cycle of shock and hatred with a new exclamation. "What are you doing here?"

Kolya grinned as he was dragged to the Gate. "Getting on the right track, old friend."

Sheppard stepped forward, ready to put the bitch smack down, but a bracing hand from Ronon stopped him. Together, they watched as Kolya was literally kicked off the planet. It was a little satisfying, especially since he got kicked in the ass as he was so. "One of these day, I'm gonna shoot that man."

Teyla noted quietly, still watching their opponents near, "It would solve a great many problems if you'd do so."

Turning back to Shal, Shep grinned bitterly. "I hate that guy."

The tall blond nodded. "He hates you as well. You're lucky; I don't think he even hates me as much as he _seems_ to do you." Turning and slowly walking away, Shal gestured for Sheppard to follow. "We'll find a conference room, and you can present your evidence."

"Evidence?" Sheppard questioned Teyla and Rodney.

Teyla answered his question as Rodney fumbled with something in his jacket, all of them following and being followed by, Shal and his men. "They wish for proof that we're telling the truth."

"I thought they wanted proof we weren't collaborators with Kolya?" Ronon asked, the first time he'd spoken all day. Ronon was a true exception to the rules; he was "Big and Lean", with none of the "Mean or Ugly". It was a delicious concoction.

"They did. Now they'd like proof that Elizabeth is who they've gotten." Teyla noted the anxiety on Sheppard's face, correctly assessing it as a sign that he'd not brought any "evidence". As it was, she'd thought ahead, and brought a little something.

The conference room was done in shades of green and brown (very military, which might explain why it seemed to soothe most of the men of the group). Shalimar gestured for the Atlantians to take a seat, and did so himself at the head of the table. A man with clear thoughts about power placement and it's subtle influences in life. Shal knew how to work his body and placement in surroundings.

Ronon did, as well, automatically taking a counter position to the man, standing behind Sheppard who deigned to take a seat with appropriate aplomb. Teyla merely sat graciously, smiling a bit as she took in the appreciative glances of several males. Rodney finally found what he'd been looking for and stepped forward to show Shalimar.

In Rodney's small (sweaty) (he gets anxious, you know?) hands was a wallet, and when opened, a long packet of photos fell out. Sheppard cocked his head as he watched Rodney start explaining to Shal the pictures.

"This is Elizabeth and I working on a new budget for the Research and Development section of Atlantis." Rodney pointed to another. "This is Sheppard threatening me with a lemon." Again, another. "This is Elizabeth threatening to ground Sheppard for threatening me with a lemon." Sheppard smiled, he remembered that day. "This is a group shot taken from Elizabeth's balcony right after a mission; it's got all of us." Rodney grinned as he pointed at another. "That's Ronon asleep at the cafeteria table; he's really not a morning person."

Sheppard looked vaguely irritated (and embarrassed) as he called out quietly, "Rodney?"

Rodney didn't hear. "This is one of Dr. Beckett; he's Elizabeth's and all of Atlantis's main physician. This was taken right after Elizabeth shot Ronon and tried to kill Sheppard, he was a little stressed." Shalimar looked decidedly amused. "This is one of me when Cadman, Beckett's girlfriend, was trapped inside my mind during a freak Wraith harvester accident. Ignore the limp hand and curly hair, she was playing with me."

"Rodney?"

"This is one of Zelenka, right after he got back from the planet of children. See all the colors and the ponytails?"

Gordy grimaced. "We've been to that planet." He was still washing the mud out of his ears. Damn kids and their mud fights.

Rodney grinned. "We send Radek every chance we get. Keeps him humble."

Teyla snorted indelicately, drawing a quirked eyebrow from Ronon, who also was amused.

"RODNEY?!" John shouted, leaning across the table so he could shout right near Dr. McKay.

"What?"

"Why do you carry photos of us in your wallet?"

He was silent. He looked at everywhere but at his friends. Finally, he shrugged and gave the old lie a try. "For situations like these."

"Why do you carry a wallet at all? Do you think one of these planets will take MasterCard?" John replied with his usual liberal sarcasm serving.

"Well, no!" Rodney replied smartly, placing his wallet back in his jacket and standing stiffly. "I suppose it's a habit."

John sighed and smacked himself in the head in exasperation. He wished he had a lemon.

In the silence that followed, lit only by Ronon and Shal's brief sharing an amused look, Teyla leaned forward and placed a small recording device on the center of the table. When everyone looked at her blankly, she explained. "It's a tape of Elizabeth during one of her tours of my village. We'd been intending to send it to Stargate Command, but I thought it'd be of good use here."

Teyla was nothing if not a smart woman. And a good warrior. And one SMOKING HOT MAMMA.

John added that last part for his own viewing.

The tape, for the most part, was boring. It was Elizabeth, clearly recognized here as Shal's own Beth, walking through a village and greeting people. She pointed out several specific buildings, laughed at a couple jokes told to her by the camera man, introduced people, and generally talked about the progress they were making at expanding the expedition. It was all very clinical and boring.

Finally, Shal told Teyla to shut it off.

He looked at Gordy, and saw the same wordless thoughts there that he himself found in his own mind. It was part dismay, part sadness, and part happiness. It was an odd mixture of accepting of what was to come and part hope that she'd finally regain some of herself.

Shal, begrudging, nodded to the group across from him. "I think we know someone you're looking for."


	6. Mr Brightside

As usual, this is dedicated to Marianne, who is RIGHT NOW writing me smut-to-order for our resident favorite couple (who've I just realized aren't getting a lot of play in this fic yet, but no worries, it's coming)...

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**Chapter Six: Mr. Brightside

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**

Standing in the observation room, staring down into a currently empty examination room, Ronon Dex found himself in a state of emotion he'd very rarely found himself in. He was deeply unsettled.

Ronon, for all his masterfully deep looks and his brilliant quips of varying degrees of malice, perpetually lived in a state of numbness. He had distant memories, stretching past seven years of frantic running and fear, to a life of happiness and stability. Somewhere over the course of the past half-decade, he'd lost his connection to that time. Not even returning to the scene of the crime had reawakened the semblance of humanity he held in stasis. The most he felt was a profound sense of loss.

Yet, even that was fading. The more time he spent in Atlantis, with its varied people and gifts, the more he found himself without any sense of emotion at all. He simply existed, answering basic functions that called to him in this gray place. Hunger, exhaustion, restlessness. He walked, he trained, he ate, he slept, and he interacted (minimally) with other people.

For the first few months, he was content with that. He didn't miss or want any connections or emotions. He allowed for brief adventures that reminded him of why he'd joined the Satedan Militia in the first place, adventures mixed of humor, adrenaline, and loyalty. Apathetic of doing anything with his free time, he'd taken to observing other Atlantians.

In a brief time, he found himself watching her. She was a living contradiction, so passionate yet so controlled, capable of making hard decisions yet also able to enjoy simple pleasures. She could establish physical contact with great ease, a clasp of the hand, or a brush of shoulders, yet found it difficult to make relationship connections. They were all friends, yet she was more aloof than even he had been.

Is it any wonder he sought to know more? Perhaps he sensed kinship within her mirror-like eyes. Perhaps he was attracted to the vibrancy of her every move. The grace with which she walked, the quirk of her lips when she smiled, the dimple in her cheek when she finally relaxed enough to feel amusement.

In silence, he watched and because of it he'd been the only one to see the toll her duties took on her. Every few weeks, a few more lines in her brow, shadows deepening under her eyes, and the smile less frequent. Truth was, by the time her negotiations with the Genii had begun, she'd looked very little like the Dr. Weir he'd first met. Ronon might even dare to say that the emotion he'd felt when watching her walk through the Stargate that final time was worry. He'd intended, upon her return, to seek her out. He'd intended to offer her friendship. Instead of accepting the offerings of those around him, he'd decided, for the first time since he'd arrive, to make the offering.

Now, instead, in silence again, he watched as she was led into the room below, his friends beside him just as apprehensive about the entire thing as he was. As they engaged in a tension-relieving session of repeating what they all already knew, Ronon watched. He always watched.

"Why couldn't we greet her, again?" Sheppard asked as Shalimar and Gordy escorted a robe clad Elizabeth into the room below, flanking her as she sat on the examination table and waited for Carson to come in.

"Dr. Beckett thought it would be better to wait until we knew the status of her amnesia before we began to reintroduce her into overly familiar situations," Teyla explained in a low voice, more out of deference to the situation than to the need for quiet. It was a mellow moment for the team, watching as someone so strong, whom they'd all looked to for guidance, was brought so low.

Beth merely smiled in boredom and resisted the urge to tease her sentinels.

Sheppard nodded and glared at McKay. "And why did we listen?"

McKay twisted his lips sardonically and shrugged. "Because Carson threatened to use really big needles next time we needed medical help if we didn't."

"Ahh, now I remember."

Ronon allowed himself a smile, but they all grew silent as below them the scene began to unfold, Carson entering with a large chart and a smile on his Scottish lips. "All the blood work and the tests are good. You're in just as good physical condition as you were last time I examined you."

Beth nodded, of course not recalling having ever seen this man before (though she found that accent of his exceedingly sexy). "That's good."

Carson nodded and set down the chart, pulling over a roll-around chair to sit nearby (not too close) (Gordy didn't appreciate any undue closeness to his ward). "I'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind."

Shal answered for her. "Depends on the questions."

Carson raised an eyebrow and smiled congenially. "About what she remembers. You explained that she has partial amnesia, she can remember some things and can't others. I'd like to establish what she can remember."

Shal approved, and nodded to Beth that she could precede. With a shrug and a smile, she relaxed onto the table and eyed up the curly-haired Scot. Maybe if she stuck around long enough...

"So, Elizabeth-"

"Beth," she interrupted.

"Beth?"

"I like to be called Beth."

Carson was surprised. During her time here in Atlantis, Dr. Weir had disapproved of any variations on her name, preferring Elizabeth or Dr. Weir to any shortening that people tried (she'd also disapproved of 'baby', 'sugar', and 'woman', as various chauvinistic military types had tried). "Might I ask why?"

"I've always liked to be called Beth. Elizabeth is so formal," she replied as she studied the room around her. There were very high walls to it, and at the top, a circle of opaque windows. She had the strange feeling that she was being watched.

Bringing her attention back to the situation at hand, she answered several questions about the older memories she had (she was a band geek, had worn braces, had her first kiss at fifteen, lost her virginity in college, and at one point had wanted to marry a man named George Clooney who was a doctor in the city of Chicago). After writing a page of notes, Carson turned the page and turned that dark gaze back on her.

Carson was the kind of man who could pack all his emotions in his eyes, and this time was no different. Oddly satisfied with every thing he was hearing, he saved this question for last, hoping to avoid the revelation of any sensitive material key to the running of Atlantis. Shal and Gordy had refused to leave "Beth" alone, even during examination (though in a purely gentlemanly way, they both looked away when she'd been required to disrobe).

"So, Beth, can you please tell me the last thing you remember? Or rather, the most recent thing?"

She thought on it before replying. "You mean clearly or just kinda?"

"Whichever."

She nodded and leaned back on her elbows, looking over her shoulder at Shal. He shrugged, knowing that he couldn't answer any of these questions for her. Finally, she turned back to the doctor and began to swing her legs. Above her, Sheppard and crew stood a little stiffer and leaned closer to better watch and hear.

"Um...it's a little fuzzy. I can see it but I can't really recall the names of the people in it, but I can remember things I knew about them, like feelings and stories and stuff?"

"That's good. What do you see?"

"Um...I'm in a room of sorts. No windows, though there is a large map-like thing on the wall. There's four people in there, I'm sitting and staring over at them. I think they're explaining something to me, it's important, that I know."

"Can you describe the people to me?"

She stood and began to pace, the short medical robe swishing around her long legs as she moved about the room, chewing idly on one of her thumbnails. "They're a team. You can tell just by looking at them. They stand there, but they're in complete sync, moving together and thinking along the same paths. They're family." She smiled. "They've been together a while, and there's relationships between them, I can see and recall some of them.

"There's three men and a woman..."

Sheppard elbowed Ronon in the side. "She's talking about us."

"...and the leader, he's tall. He's got tan skin like he's outside a lot, and he's good leader. He can joke a lot, but he knows when to be serious. He smiles a lot, and mostly at the woman. He and she have feelings for each other, that much is obvious, but for reasons I don't...um...understand or like, they're not together. In fact, I think," she concentrated on that part, "I think she's seeing someone else."

Sheppard resisted the urge to glare at Teyla, and ignored the implication that he had feelings for Teyla, which he didn't, other than that of friendship. Yep, friendship.

Teyla was beginning to think that Elizabeth was not talking about them at all.

Elizabeth continued. "She's cute, strong and easy to get along with. She can tend to be serious, but underneath that she has a strong sense of humor, though it doesn't come out often. Next to her is another man, a scientist or a librarian or something. He's the smart one of the group, you can tell, but he's kinda buff in a surprising way."

McKay's eyebrows shot all the way to his receding hairline as he turned to the others and mouthed in shock, "Buff?" He surreptitiously fingered his arms, and acknowledged that he had been exercising a bit lately, and it was paying off.

"I think that I might have been attracted to him. He had light brown hair, and shiny blue eyes. Sometimes he said things I did not understand but I liked it. You know, talk geek to me and get me hot?" She said with a laugh and subtle hip brush as self-proclaimed meathead Gordy. He pushed back and she walked past and around the table back to Shal, who she proceeded to hide behind whilst she thought more.

Carson looked up from his notes, and studied the shyness "Beth" was exhibiting. It was a sign that she was hiding something, but he didn't think now was the time to push her. By all physical aspects, she was healthy, meaning that her amnesia was most likely caused by psychological reasons. He'd have to have the resident therapist talk to her later. "And the final man?"

Ronon stepped closer to the window, watching as Elizabeth peered around Shalimar's large arm to peer at Carson. "What about him?"

"Describe him."

Elizabeth smiled broadly, and slipped behind Shal. "He's tall, virile, very sexy. Lots of muscles and brooding silence. He's different from the other three, like he's an alien or something, or maybe that's just because of how he acts. He's darker than the others too, his skin and his eyes. The way he stands and moves reads 'thug'; he's the muscle of the group. He has a thing..."

Ronon almost choked on the innuendo, while the others stared wide-eyed at him. Sheppard was surprised that Elizabeth would prefer the silent machismo to his own charming braggart of a self. Teyla silently thought Elizabeth had made the right choice, but kept that to herself.

Rodney was still wondrous at his own physical prowess was wondering if Laura Cadman would mind spending some time exploring his head further in private. (Yeah, that head).

Carson stood and slowly walked to an angle so that he could see Elizabeth, who'd fisted her hair on either side of her head in her hands as she concentrated. "What thing?"

She shook her head in pain as she concentrated hard. "It's a thing. It's like a tattoo, but not. It's um...gold. It's gold. It's difficult to describe because I don't think I've seen it in a long time. It's a circle of gold in his forehead with like a 'u' inside it. Does that make sense?"

Sheppard turned to his team and grinned. "I don't think she's talking about us."

Ronon stared. "Why would someone have a tattoo on their forehead?"

McKay, ignoring the implication that he was not buff, posed and answered at the same time. "It's not a real tattoo. It's more like metal burned into it as a sign of his loyalty to his god."

"It's a sign of religious servitude?"

Shep nodded. "To a false god."

"A false god?"

"Yep. Prolly makes him feel real stupid for letting them pour hot melty metal on his skin." Sheppard grinned and winked at Teyla, who showed her amusement by smiling back.

They turned to leave, two by two (McKay flexing his flabby arms and Ronon watching with great amusement) (Teyla walking beside Shep, shooting him curious glances every once and a while). Finally, she asked him what was on her mind. "You didn't deny being attracted to me."

"When'd I say I was attracted to you?"

"You didn't, Elizabeth did, but you didn't deny it."

"Well she obviously wasn't talking about me."

"That much is clear. Still, how coincidental that the woman she was describing is also seeing someone."

"You're seeing someone?"

"I am."

"Who?"

"That is a private matter."

"We're friends."

"Not that good of friends."

"Teyla."

"Sheppard."

Back in the examination room, the three men turned their backs as Beth dressed. Carson straightened his papers and explained what happened next. "I'll have the soldiers outside escort you all to the quarters assigned; I hope you boys don't mind sharing."

Shalimar shrugged. "We won't be."

Carson spared a glance over his shoulder for the tall blond man. "The Colonel informs me you and the gentleman will be assigned a room, and Beth shall return to her quarters."

Shal didn't smile when he replied. "I'll stay with her in her quarters."

"I don't believe that's appropriate-" Carson started, ready to rip into the warrior for taking advantage of a sick woman, but was interrupted by Shal's stern voice.

"We stay in the same room, or we don't stay at all."

Beth stepped up beside them, and slipped her hand into Shal's, instantly calming him. "It's fine. I prefer it that way."

Carson shrugged. "Alright. I'll just go get the soldiers."

As the strange doctor left, Beth found herself leaning into the safety of her two friends. Gordy rubbed her back, and Shal held her hand. She turned her head into Shal's shoulder and sighed heavily. "I don't like it here."

"We can leave. They can't stop us."

She shook her head. "I don't like it here, but it feels like home."

Gordy grinned and chucked her on the chin. "Hell of a feeling, kid."

"Hey, I'm older than you."

"Pssht, you don't know that. You don't know anything."

"You want me to hurt you."

"Only if you promise."

"If you two don't be quiet, I'm gonna hurt you."

Beth leaned into Gordy and smiled. "Promises, promises."


	7. Why Do I Keep Counting?

Another update...despite only getting one review for the last one...my readers suck.

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**Chapter Seven: Why Do I Keep Counting?

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**

"So what you're saying is that while you stay with Beth in her room, I'm stuck all alone in this big place with it's many attractive females?" Gordy asked, not entirely looking at Shalimar, his eyes instead roaming over the new and just-as-curious women that walked around them. Behind them, Beth walked slowly, watching every little thing, trying to see something familiar and not finding what she sought.

Gordy and Shal spoke quietly, doubtless plotting many things, and Beth tuned them out in favor of eavesdropping on passersby. There was a girl with red hair in casual clothing walking by, muttering to herself about "stupid egotistical head scientists who needed a kick in the ass...or the head". Beth smiled and watched the girl until she was out of sight. Not far behind them, half a security team followed the trio as they randomly walked around the large compound, and though Beth didn't look at them, she did listen, and she listened long enough to realize that someone other than the ones she saw were watching.

"She's just looking around, taking in the sights, Colonel."

Beth smiled briefly and wondered just who this "Colonel" was. Sounded strong, important; maybe he was her boss?

Yes, though she'd not realized it, Beth had accepted that she'd come from this place. She didn't know why she was here, or what she'd done here, but she knew instinctively that this was _home_. Maybe it was the way just the way walking in these halls, listening to the voices, and smelling the air made her relax so deeply that she forgot all her troubles; or maybe it was that niggling sense that she'd forgotten something, something she needed to remember.

Drawing her attention from inside her memories, where she often found herself lingering, hoping that something new would come to her, Beth found that Shal and Gordy had stopped in front of a large room, and through the door grunts and thuds echoed. Peering between the two large men, the sight of what appeared (she hoped) was sparring between many people. Intrigued by the sight, Shal never let her watch him and Gordy spar, feeling that it wasn't "women's business" (she'd kicked him in the shin, that sexist bastard); Beth stepped past her soldiers and watched from the doorway.

One particular man, taller than all the rest and different from them in a fundamental way, caught her attention. Not only did he wear different clothing that the other men in the room, he moved different. Whereas the others moved gracefully, yet haltingly, thinking through their moves before they made them, this man just moved. He was brutal, strong and quick, but smooth in his movements. He could never be called graceful, but looking at the sharp angled features of his face, she didn't think that he'd appreciate being described as such anyways.

His hair, which fell in long convoluted ropes, swung as he moved, and she wondered why he hadn't pulled it back...

Then, almost instantaneously, she could recall seeing it move that way before. In a dark room, barely lit, his hair swinging back as he ducked the blow of an unseen enemy, his dark brown eyes alight with the pleasure of battle, his teeth coming to bare in a rough grin; then just as quickly, it faded, and Beth doubted she'd seen it at all. Like a dream in the night, just thinking about it made it fade faster, and within seconds, despite the dizziness that suddenly clouded her sight, she couldn't remember anything she'd seen.

Leaning against the doorway, very much aware that slowly, throughout the room, people had begun to stop their movements to watch her, Beth continued to watch the warrior tear a swathe through his opponents. Behind her, Shal and Gordy had stopped arguing over the "bounty of beauties" to watch Beth watch the fight. Neither knew why she'd stopped (considering all the times she'd lectured them on the fact that violence was not the answer), but knew that for some reason, she was fascinated by this particular scene.

Ronon Dex knew only the fighting. In a dialogue familiar yet always different, he concentrated on defeating his opponent. Blow for blow, pain for pain, he echoed the movements of a thousand fights, seeking new ways in which to succeed. For every minute he fought the soldier, the soldier learned and compensated for weaknesses.

The boy was no Colonel Sheppard or Teyla, but he could be in time, and Ronon made note to comment on it to Sheppard. With lack of current missions to pursue, Ronon had taken to challenging and "teaching" the younger soldiers that arrived on Atlantis. Indeed, Ronon had been dubbed the "Welcoming Committee", and no one escaped his hospitality.

Crouching low and coming up in a fast uppercut, Ronon disable his enemy and sent him flying backwards, safely, into the arms of his friends. In the spirit of a good fight, Ronon clasped the boy's hand and drew him to his feet, clapping him on the back. "You fight well."

Shrugging it off, the boy proceeded to collapse again, much to the chuckles of the crowd. Grinning fiercely himself, Ronon turned and picked up his towel, throwing it around his neck in abandon and draining the rest of his bottled water. It was only then that he realized how quiet the room had become. His eyes narrowed and he didn't turn, but did take in as much of the room as he could without moving.

She knew the instant he realized she was there. He didn't know by direct sense, but by indirect; he took in the environment around him and deduced that an intruder had come. It showed deep intelligence, great patience...and it was fucking sexy.

In a purely woman fashion, ignoring the fact that by now the entire room was pointedly staring or not-staring at her and the man, she studied his body and did not find it lacking. Long limbs flowed with rippling muscles, currently shining with sweat and trembling from exertion. Deeply tanned, natural, not sun-influenced, complimented his body, and the scars that puckered every once and a while did nothing to detract from it.

She knew without thinking that his eyes were brown. Not dark brown, but light brown, like chocolate.

On the heels of that sudden revelation, she had another small and unsettling thought, one that caused her forehead to wrinkle in thought, and her eyes to finally wrench from the intimidating figure across the room.

Ronon grasped his things, standing easily from the crouch he'd taken to collect them, and turned easily. She stood in the doorway, her eyes lost in thought but pointed in his direction. Dark curls fell over her forehead as her lips moved in private thoughts she'd unconsciously began to speak softly. As he began to walk in her direction, the rest of the room immediately began to do drills and sparring again, yet still seemed to strain to hear every word that yet to be said.

Stopping in front of the fragile woman, she suddenly jerked her eyes up front and center, staring him straight in the face with a one-minded directness that caused him a shiver of unease. He stared at people with that look, and this was the first time he'd been on the receiving end of it. "Hello, Dr. Weir," he forced himself to say lightly, sweeping his eyes past her to the two large "bodyguards" behind her. Both stared at him distinctly unfriendly.

Beth smiled minutely, and used one of her long fingers to bring his face back to looking at her's. "You have brown eyes. They look like chocolate."

Ronon's eyes widened and his eyebrows followed; he couldn't recall Dr. Weir ever touching him, or speaking to him like this. "Okaaayyy..." The art of conversation, as taught by Colonel Sheppard; in an uncomfortable situation, stick to small words.

Suddenly, her eyes unfocused and she dropped her hand, taking a small step back, directly into Shalimar's arms. She stared at him with such a look of confusion that for an instant, Ronon felt the urge to comfort her. It was extremely unusual. She frowned as she asked him, "What's chocolate?"

Ronon opened his mouth to reply, but found that he had nothing to say. Instead, he shrugged and watched as the blond man slowly guided Elizabeth away. The large black man, of the many scars, stepped close to Ronon and spoke softly. "That chick you were with when you came to my world?"

"Teyla," Ronon replied, still watching Elizabeth's retreating figure.

"Is she single?"

Ronon glanced sharply at the stranger, before deciding to be truthful. Ronon turned and pointed to Major Lorne, who was currently sparring with one of his subordinates. "Ask him."

* * *

Carson smiled broadly, and restrained the urge to hug Ronon. "This is great!"

Ronon, chewing on a lollipop, eyed the doctor suspiciously, almost psychically picking up on the hug-instinct. "Why?"

"Because it means that she's already starting to remember. It's not lasting at the moment, but the more she remembers, the easier it will be to retain it," Carson explained, turning to motion that Colonel Sheppard and Teyla enter the room as well. They'd not been there when Ronon had explained the gym scene to the doctor, so they had to play catch-up.

"What's this about, Carson?"

"Elizabeth is already beginning to remember!" He said with much glee and in such an accent that not even Teyla could understand him. Shaking his head, he started to speak again. "Ronon just came to me, to tell me of an incident he had with Elizabeth."

"What happened?" Sheppard demanded, instantly alert to any trouble (you should never use the word "incident" with a soldier, their minds jump to conclusions).

Ronon interrupted Dr. Beckett to tell the story; after all, it was _his_ story. "I was sparring in the gym. I won, I started to leave, she was in the doorway. She said my eyes looked like chocolate, then asked me what chocolate was." Ronon was a great storyteller.

Teyla gasped. "She does not remember chocolate?" Teyla, upon being enticed into trying it during a particular spontaneous late night meeting with Sheppard, had become a hard core addict, and could often be found trading with newcomers to Atlantis for the supply they brought.

Ronon just shrugged and swung himself up onto the desk, relaxing as he watched the reactions of his friends. Teyla's was horrified, but Sheppard's was merely intrigued.

"So, what do we do now?" He asked, pulling out a lollipop of his own. He'd been the one to addict Ronon to the little devils; now that he thought of it, he'd gotten both aliens addicted to many things. Including (for Ronon) porn, lollipops, entertainment wrestling, and action movies; (for Teyla) chocolate, daytime television shows (read SOAP OPERAS) (what? _Passions_ was John's show!), horror movies, and sleeping naked (don't ask).

Carson thought on it a moment, before decisively laying out their plan of action. "I think, since Ronon is the one who triggered this, that we should have him spend as much time with her as her escort will allow. Hopefully, it'll trigger more memories."

Ronon sat up straight, a glower already forming on his beautiful face. "I gotta spend all my time with a girl?"

Teyla smacked him in the arm, hard enough to totter him off the desk. He caught himself and glared at her. "You know what I mean."

Carson, unfortunately for his current safety, nodded. "I think there's a good chance that if you caused one memory to resurface, you could cause more."

"I don't even know Dr. Weir that well."

"Sometimes it's the most innocuous of things that can help cure amnesia."

Before Ronon could object more, Sheppard put up a hand and stalled all arguments. "Sorry, bud, but what the doctor says, goes. We need Elizabeth healed, and until then, consider yourself her personal escort."

Despite his objections, Ronon found the thought not entirely unpleasant.


	8. Jenny Was a Friend of Mine

A/N: So...this chapter took a while. Mostly because I've spent the past two weeks angry over the new spoilers for SGA. For those of you not into spoilers...well...when you find out, you'll be angry too.

STUPID FRAKKING SCI-FI. AND YOU WONDER WHY YOUR RATINGS ARE GOING DOWN! IT'S BECAUSE YOU CAN'T LEAVE STUFF ALONE! YOU MOVE SHOWS THAT SHOULDN'T BE MOVED! YOU TRANSFER THE CRAPPY WRITERS THAT DROVE SG1 TO AN EARLY DEATH TO SGA!

Go to hell, Sci-Fi. Go.

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**Chapter Eight: Jenny Was a Friend of Mine

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**

The thing about being around two alpha males is that a pissing contest is inevitable. Men can't help it, not really. They're more deeply ingrained with their instincts that women. The testosterone and pheromones get to mixing and before you know it, you have the proverbial arm-wrestling contest. It can be anything from a wrestling match (in the case of Ronon and Sheppard), a mathematical matching of wills (Zelenka and Rodney), a war of words (Rodney and Carson), or even, a bitch-slap fight (no one will admit to that one).

Sometimes, this "contest of piss" isn't as violent as the participators would like. Sometimes...

It's silent. A nice non-violent, staring contest.

This is what Ronon found himself engaging in the very next morning. On Colonel Sheppard's suggestion (read order), Ronon headed for Elizabeth's quarters to invite her on a tour of Atlantis. The strange thing about him giving the tour is 1) he doesn't look like your typical tour guide; 2) he doesn't know that much about Atlantis. Ronon could usually be found in four places, the gym, the cafeteria, the control room, or his quarters. That is the extent of his knowledge of Atlantis.

Still, because Sheppard asked (ordered) it of him, Ronon readied himself for a day of pretending to know what he was doing. Walking silently through the corridors, getting the usual amount of stares and glares, Ronon was almost happy to see the door he was looking for. He gave some thought to just walking in, as he did in Teyla and Sheppard's quarters, and they at his, but figured "Beth" might not appreciate that. She might be...undressed.

Did he say not walk right in? It was suddenly seeming like a good idea.

Ronon knocked on the door frame, and almost instantly heard movement within. This was good; he didn't want to miss the beginning of breakfast, Ronon's favorite meal of the day. If he didn't get there on time, Sheppard would come in and steal all of the custard-filled/glazed/chocolate-frosted donuts. The chefs only made ten of them.

Shuffling his feet and glaring at passersby, Ronon waited for her to answer, wondering a bit to himself if her guard dogs would join them and shadow them all day. The door slid open and Ronon looked up, expecting to find either 1) cool and polished Elizabeth, looking like she'd been awake for hours and had been patiently awaiting him, or 2) sexy rumpled Beth who crawled from bed to get the door and was just as ready to crawl back in, alone or not.

Not that he'd ever encountered either of those people. This was his imagination talking, people.

Instead, Ronon was greeted by the sight of a shirtless, hostile Shalimar. While Rodney might have taken the opportunity to learn more about the past month from this blond, Ronon was merely content to glare and be glared at in response.

Shalimar stood there, shirtless (as I said, and completely delectable in that "I've got bronze hair leading down washboard abs to my hip bones that stick out in a thoroughly enticing way and I'm wearing low-slung tan leather pants that make me rear look plump, yet hard"...way) and glaring at Ronon, also equally comfortable with not speaking.

They stood there for ten minutes.

Not speaking.

Glowering.

Then Beth got out of the shower and walked into the room naked, and neither of the men could be bothered with looking at each other, when they could look elsewhere.

Halfway across the room, Beth turned and stared at both of them, and by extension, the passersby in the hallway who were also looking in. "Will you shut the door, you heathens?" She asked most politely, crossing her arms for a semblance of propriety. She had on a towel, but it was wrapped around her waist and didn't conceal that much of her physique.

Both men began to sputter and quickly stepped inside so the sensors would allow the door to shut. Instantly, the room became darker and the atmosphere became more...heady. Beth glared at them as they continued to remain frozen like statues at the doorway, apparently unable to look away. "I meant for you two to step out, not in."

In sync, the two men backed up and out of the quarters, leaving her to dress. Outside, they stood, just a bit shell shocked and more than a little aroused. As one, they crossed their hands in front of their laps and hoped no one would notice. This being Atlantis, everyone noticed, but stored it away in their gossip notes to talk about later. Who would have though it, Ronon Dex having a stiffy when around a half-dressed man? (It would be everywhere within hours, and then hours after that, only then would it be revealed that a naked Elizabeth had been involved as well...and then the rumor would swirl around the two half-dressed Elizabeth and Shalimar, and just what had Ronon been doing there?)

Ronon stood there stiffly, finally inclining his head to the slightly taller man beside him. "I'm supposed to give Elizabeth a tour."

Also not willing to discuss the exceedingly awkward moments between the trio, Shalimar replied slowly. "She'll like that. May we break fast first?"

"Just what I was thinking."

Before them, the door opened and a now dressed Elizabeth stepped through. She wore clothes Ronon had seen before, gray pants, red shirt, but she wore them in a way that made them seem vastly different. She made the casual outfit seem...obscene. However, that might just be because Ronon was remembering seeing her topless and found himself not being able to make it go away (not that he wants to).

Beth handed a t-shirt to Shalimar, before looking at Ronon. "I'm hungry."

"This isn't my shirt," Shal commented as he put on the bright pink monstrosity he apparently was wearing today.

Ronon glanced at the shirt. "What's an ABBA?"

Beth shrugged. "I don't know, but your shirt is...missing."

Shal stared at her. "You're hell on my clothes."

She shrugged and started walking down the hall, studying the people that passed. "Get over it, you little bitch."

Shalimar and Ronon shared a glance, full of unspeakable horror, before following the woman down the hall. Though Ronon had anticipating having to lead her everywhere, and point out the simplest things, he found himself being led instead. Elizabeth walked quickly, obviously aware of where she was going.

Within minutes, and a few quick dodges of the crowd as they stopped to watch their commander and chief move amongst them again, Ronon and Shalimar entered the eating area with her. Instantly, everything stopped.

People about to take a bite of their food, froze mid-motion, causing oatmeal/cereal/bacon/eggs to fall to the table/plate/lap.

The cooks stopped serving their food.

The birds stopped flying.

Time itself froze and realigned itself as the joy of dozens of people exploded.

This is a slight exaggeration.

Ronon directed Beth and Shal to a table near the windows, before heading up to the line to grab food for everyone. He was standing there, oh so patiently cracking his knuckles as the people ahead of him took their sweet time, when Colonel Sheppard snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"How's it going so far?"

Ronon saw no reason to lie. "I saw her naked."

"Huh?"

"I knocked on the door, and the dude answered, and behind him she walked out of the shower all...naked and stuff."

"Oh...did you see the small tattoo on her right thigh?"

"You've seen her naked?" Ronon asked with a small grin.

Sheppard blushed. "No, but don't ask anyway," he said as he started to leave, before leaning back over to poke Ronon in the chest with a grin. "And don't tell Teyla."

Ronon was laughing as he quickly crammed 10 donuts, two bowls of oatmeal, and five pieces of bacon onto a tray. With much difficulty (for a large man, he had very little sense of balance) he got the tray to the table and handed out food. Elizabeth got a bowl of oatmeal, Shalimar got a bowl of oatmeal and bacon, and Ronon got 10 donuts.

Elizabeth was glaring at him before he even sat down. "How come I don't get those meat piece things?"

"You're a vegetarian."

"I'm a vege-whatwhat?"

"You don't eat meat."

Beth flushed. "Pssht. I do too."

Ronon froze in the act of taking a bite of donut, causing custard to drip down his chin and onto his shirt. "No, you don't."

Beth grinned and chomped into a piece of bacon with glee. "I do now. I love meat."

Ronon ignored the tingle of interest that little statement caused. "When you get your memory back, you're going to be sick."

"Who says I'm getting my memory back?" She asked with a smile, enjoying the soup-like thing she was eating.

"I do," he replied with such certainty that she couldn't really deny him.

Shalimar forestalled the argument certain to come by interrupting them both. "Where to after this meal?"

Ronon finished his second donut and reached for the third. "Um...the pier. She used to like the pier."

Beth flicked her napkin at Ronon. "I hate water."

"Quit being contrary, Beth," Shalimar said, waving to get Gordy's attention as his wingman made his way into the area with a woman on both arms. The ability of the dark man to seduce and charm his way into the beds of women way out of his league never ceased to amaze Shalimar.

Beth picked up a spoonful of porridge and with great glee, globbed it at Shalimar. As it slid off his face and onto the table, she began to laugh hysterically. Ronon decided then and there that pissing off this Elizabeth would not be a good idea.

The difference between an alpha male and an alpha female is that while an alpha male will get violent with you and make you bleed...an alpha female will throw food at you and humiliate you in front of many people.

As Shalimar was now learning.


	9. On Top

New chapter...YAY! So, I just wrote this...and I had to rewrite the end of it. LOL. Turned out WAY TOO RAUNCHY for y'all to read. WAY. Like...I'd have to up the rating, so I took it out. LOL.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: To let y'all in on a secret...I have a bi-monthly newsletter on my profile page, often letting slip some information about the stories I'm actively writing. If you want to know, for instance, how many more chapters of this story there will be, go stop by and give it a read. You can even (gasp) hit me with a PM letting me know what you think!**

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**Chapter Nine: On Top

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**

Atlantis, with all its wonders and awesomeness, was much like a maze. To get where you want to go, its best if you've been there before, or have a guide who can help. Some of the Athosians often compare finding their way about the cavernous city to finding spirituality, done best with close guidance and often with fantastical results.

Not that Gordy knew any of this. What he did know was that he hated to be lost, and felt very much the fool when he found himself standing in front of his assigned temporary quarters yet again for the sixth time. He was nowhere near to achieving the nirvana associated with actually arriving where you intended to go. (On another note, Colonel Sheppard often finds it restful to idly walk the corridors of Atlantis, sometimes with Ronon at his side, and together the two of them know their way around the city better than many of the maintenance people).

The soft music of laughter behind him had the tall dark man turning and glowering at the laughter. Teyla and Sheppard were clearly amused with the obviously disoriented man. It earned them his signature "Do that again and you're dead" look (not that he'd copyrighted it since it seemed that every thug this side of the Milky Way had the exact same look, though admittedly the Wraith "thugs" had perfected it). "Why are you laughing?"

"We've been following you for half an hour," Shep said as he looped his arm into the warrior's much larger one. For some reason, despite the circumstances, he liked Gordy. The fact that the man was hell-bent on protecting Elizabeth made it easy.

Teyla took his other arm and continued to laugh softly. "It was most amusing. We'd have assisted, but we thought you might be...what did you say about it, John? 'Up to no good'?"

Sheppard nodded, now actively leading Gordy, and be extension, Teyla, to the cafeteria. "It's one of those colorful Earthly colloquialisms."

"That is a very large word, John," Teyla said with an amused smile. "Elizabeth would be most proud."

"Speaking of Elizabeth," Sheppard led in (this conversation had been rehearsed between Teyla and himself about twenty times before they went to find Gordy or Shalimar to try it out on), "What's up with the whole He-Man sleeping in her room? Is he taking advantage of her?"

Gordy laughed, loud and robust (total warrior laugh, all manly and amused), before struggling to find his breath to speak. "Hardly. Shalimar is honorable, and would never take advantage of a woman in her condition. For all we know, she could be mated."

"She's not," Teyla said, all googly-eyes and pouting lips, "are you?"

"Teyla," Sheppard hissed behind Gordy's back, his eyes full of murder, "stay on subject."

She shrugged and stared up at Gordy. "Is Shalimar with someone back on your world?"

"No, on my world warriors remain without mate until such time as they are no longer needed to fight," it was a necessity of his life. Any encounters with females would be short and sweet, until he was high enough in rank, or too old to be of much use on the battlefield anymore. Now that much of the fighting of his people's past was over, one would think the leaders would relax the ordinance, try to repopulate their world, however, it had not happened yet.

"So, he is just using her until he has to leave?" Sheppard asked as they arrived at the cafeteria and headed for a table.

"Why do you keep asking me that? They're not even staying in the same bed."

"How do you know that?"

"Back on my world, we would alternate nights. One night he'd be there, the next one I would be."

Teyla set a glass of water in front of Gordy with a smile. "He's just guarding her at night then?"

"Why are you so interested? Are either of you involved with her?" Gordy asked, his tone light as his mind began to dance with images of the pale Beth and the bronze Teyla engaging in delicious acts of debauchery.

Teyla and Sheppard glanced at each other, startled like, and spoke at the same time. "No."

Sheppard sighed, leaning back in his chair, grateful that he wouldn't have to take Shalimar onto the dock and beat him up for being a bully to Elizabeth. "I'm glad you're just guarding her. I might've had to hurt somebody."

Gordy grinned; his eyes alight with mischief as he spoke. "I never said we were just guarding her. You assumed."

"Then just why are you and he there with her at night?" Teyla asked, frustrated by the lack of straight answers.

"She doesn't sleep at night. If one of us wasn't there, who knows who'd keep her on a leash," Gordy replied, hoping that this would stop with the questions and maybe give him a chance sweet talk this beautiful chick across from him into letting him try out some of those more interesting "ideas" that had swept across his mind only moments ago.

"She has trouble sleeping?"

Gordy shook his head, the light dancing on that obsidian skin, casting purple highlights and making Teyla want to touch, just to see if it was soft or as hard as it appeared to be. "No, she doesn't sleep at all."

"Like, at all?"

"At all."

* * *

On the other side of Atlantis, entering what can only be described as Nerd Heaven, Beth and Shal found themselves surrounded by lots of gadgets, gizmos, and geeks. Whereas Shalimar hung back, not at all comfortable with the amount of electronics and experiments operating in the room, Beth ventured forth, intrigued by the vials and the pictures. 

Shalimar wasn't alone, however, as Ronon too found himself uncomfortable with the level of intelligence that routinely worked here. Standing side by side, similar in stance and training, their eyes moving about the room the exact same way, their lips turned in the same sneer, one would think them brothers. Had it not been for the vast physical differences, it might even have been a possibility.

Beth turned from the other side of the room to study her two escorts, one light to the other's dark. While Shalimar appeared almost pure in his appearance, light hair and skin matched by light eyes and humor, Ronon was almost demonic next to him. Dark hair, tan skin, and eyes so brown they were almost but not quite black. Those very same eyes were almost always dancing with some unsaid humor. Beth appreciated those differences, and had in the past hour learned something very interesting. While Shalimar comforted her in his familiarity, it was Ronon who drew her.

Beth studied what some guy named Radek was working on (it appeared to be slime on a stick to her) and listened as he explained that it was actually a mold capable of movement, that also disinfected everything he touched. He also said that he'd spoken to her several weeks ago about implementing it's usage in Atlantis (something she didn't recall). Given the adoring look on his face, Beth surmised that she was something of a wet dream for him, and quickly made her way back to the entrance.

"I've seen enough, let's move on," Beth said when she stood before her sentinels, not unaware of the authority in her voice that came so easily. Wordlessly the men turned to leave, but McKay would have none of it.

"You haven't seen my projects yet!" He gasped as he hurried to her side.

"I don't want to," she said with a smile and a sardonic twist of her eyebrows.

"You must! Mine are the best, as I'm the best. Absolutely brilliant."

"I'm sure you are, but I still don't want to."

"You have to."

"I don't."

"You have to."

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," McKay said as he wrapped a hand around her arm, intending to pull her over to the table where his own experiment (which had so recently been restarted after Zelenka's stupid tests on the electrical systems).

Almost before anyone could blink, Beth had slid into a crouch and used the impetus to throw McKay over her shoulder and into the wall. She stood with a smile, idly dusting her hands off. "When I say no, I mean no."

Beth shrugged off the calming hand of Shal, who had been at her side within a second of the incident, already weary of these people and having to watch their every move. They were outnumbered here, unknowledgeable of the terrain, and under-prepared for anything. If a fight were to occur, they would almost certainly lose. He was not comfortable here.

"Beth, what have I told you about when we're in public?" He asked quietly.

She sighed, turned into his arms so he could lead her away. "That when I kick people's asses before you can, it emasculates you and makes you feel like a pussy."

"Exactly. So, next time you want to hurt someone?"

"I should let you do it."

It was an unchangeable truth that at some point or another, every person on Atlantis will get the urge to knock the egotistical McKay on his ass.

Was it any wonder that seconds after Beth left, the entire room burst into spontaneous applause?


	10. Who Let You Go

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I was having some story-identity-crises going on. The point I reach is...we are now moving into the Romance/Drama section of our story, so yes, the focus is shifting. It took me like two weeks to realize why I couldn't write the new chapter. It was because I was FOCUSING ON THE WRONG THING.

I blame Marianne and her smut. And her ice cream.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Who Let You Go

* * *

**

During the long trek of Atlantis, through which the strangers met many a varied stranger, in many colors and styles, Beth never became uncomfortable. Much to her surprise, she found the place relaxing. From its rigidly standing military components to the laid-back and tie-dyed science departments, it was all smoothly and eloquently drawing her into a sense of well-being she couldn't remember. If this place had been so wonderful, however, why had she left?

Which brought her thoughts back to the original cause of mild distress; why had she been taken by Kolya? It gave him no political or military advantage to have her, because from what she understood these people did not negotiate with people such as him. What was the purpose in taking someone who once taken lost all strategic value?

Perhaps not all, she mused as she followed the broad and utterly delectable back of Ronon Dex through the halls. Behind her Shalimar followed, a much lighter compliment to Ronon's darker looks. It was like walking in a lust sandwich, torn between which one to touch. Rather, where to touch?

As the day wore on, the corridors (though she'd not thought is possible) became more crowded. Now, though, the crowd was a mix of native people and Atlantians. When one too many gave a wave to her, she slowly pressed her hand against Ronon's (oh so muscled) arm to signal she wanted to stop. "Who are those people?"

Ronon lifted his eyebrow as if the question was odd, but shrugged and answered anyways. "They're the Athosians. Teyla's people."

Shalimar too had questions. "You allow civilians into your military outpost?"

"They're our allies. Besides, they work here."

Ronon turned as if the conversation was over, and with a small smile Beth left Shal behind to walk aside the tall Satedan. "What do they do here?"

"Why are you so curious?"

"They're different from everyone I've met so far. Besides, I'm a curious person."

"You always were."

"Was that a slur against my character? The one...I don't remember?" She'd started it as a joke, but the entire situation dawned on her again, unsettling her into a bit of a stammer as she struggled to imagine what she really was like. Was she really a curious person, or was it a facet of her amnesia? Was she loud or quiet? Did she read in the evening, or spend it with friends? What were her favorite foods?

The questions could have gone on for hours had Ronon not answered. "No, just a statement."

Beth knew they were walking in circles now, having seen most of what she was currently 'allowed' to see. With Shal at her side, the Colonel didn't want them in the Control Room, and the general tour was starting to wind down. "What was I like?"

Ronon faltered in his steady steps, halting for a moment to stare down at her. Her face looked paler than usual, though the eyes shown quite brightly. Her hair was still the same soft curls she'd always worn, though there was something just a bit wild about them now. The urge to brush those curls was so strong in him that he clenched his fists behind his back. "I didn't really know you very well."

"Tell me what you did know."

Shal rolled his eyes and continued to watch the crowd around him. Though the conversation seemed private enough, every person in a ten foot radius was listening and most likely reporting back to someone, whether it was enemy or friend Shalimar wouldn't know until disaster struck. If it struck.

Ronon nodded, turning his head to find one of the many alcoves nearby that actually would afford some solitude. What he did find was one of the many small balconies overlooking the massive ocean that surrounded them. Taking her hand, he led her into the balcony, a bit surprised when Shalimar remained outside the door. Apparently, the man was less than interested in who Beth had been before she became 'Beth'.

Ronon leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath and studying the woman before him. She smiled back, just a bit saucy, and shrugged. "You gonna answer the question?"

"You were quiet, but not shy. You thought on things before you said them, and when you did speak people listened. Not just because you are our leader, but it was something about you that demanded it. As far as I know you weren't into physical fighting or even sparring, preferring to do your battles with words. Still, you liked to run the halls before most of Atlantis was up. We ran together a few times."

He took another deep breath, turning to stare out across the deep blue he could see, sky and water blurring together and unintentionally reminding him of the azure of her eyes as she stared at him. "You were responsible, you took everything to heart. Every casualty, every battle, every failure."

Beth nodded, also turning to stare out over the edge. "Was I...was I a good-"

"You were a great leader. One of the best I ever followed."

She shook her head at his fierce statement. "No. Was I...a good person?"

Ronon was puzzled. "Of course."

Beth nodded, slightly relieved. "I wondered."

"Why?"

She smiled softly to herself, fidgeting a bit in her place. "Sometimes I have dreams. They make me feel...doubtful and just a bit angry. When they're done I sometimes think that I've done bad things."

"You've done things I didn't like, but you always took the consequences with them. You did things for what you believed was the best."

"The road to hell..." she whispered to herself, turning for the door.

"What?"

"Huh?" She turned, wondering what he wanted now that the conversation was over. Clearly it was time they continue on before any more of this touchy-feely nonsense overtook them.

"You said 'The road to hell'?"

"Oh, um," she thought long and hard. Why had she said that? What did it mean? In the end, "I don't know. Just something that slipped out."

Ronon nodded but he was still confused. He knew the phrase; Sheppard was fond of using quips when dealing with their enemies. What confused him was what she seemed to think of herself. How could she not know what a good person she was? Just what were these dreams that made her so doubtful?

On a better note, it seemed Carson's theory was correct. Ronon's very presence was jogging more and more of her memories, though apparently not all of them good.

* * *

In the medical bay, Dr. Beckett (unaware of how successful his theory was proving) was listening avidly as Gordy described those same dreams/memories.

"She had them the very first night we rescued her. We thought at the time that they would subside, just some left over shock from being held. It continued though."

Carson nodded, replying in that thick brogue of his that had many a nurse purring. "They would. She'd been having them for weeks before she went missing."

Sheppard snapped to attention, his attention taken from admiring several of those 'purring' nurses to Beckett. "What?"

"Indeed, she didn't want to alarm anyone so we'd been privately discussing several solutions."

"What was the cause, Doctor?" Teyla asked, her voice quiet and calming as usual. She laid her hand on John's suddenly tense arm, letting it fall away when he relaxed onto the counter beside her.

"I believed it to be emotional stress," Carson glanced at Gordy before continuing, not sure whether they should be discussing the topic in front of him, though it was prudent to inform Colonel Sheppard now. "They started after Michael."

"We all had a few bad dreams after that, Carson," Sheppard said harshly. "What was going on with Elizabeth?"

"Well, you know how she is, John. She takes a lot onto her plate, and this was just one incident too many. She felt guilty and it was taking its toll. I recommended she see our therapist. She was to have her first session when she returned from the Genii."

"Well, we know that didn't happen."

"Why did the nightmares continue when she was with my men?" Gordy asked, finally drawing their gazes back to himself. "If she didn't remember the incident, shouldn't the dreams have lapsed?"

Carson sighed, settling down into a chair before looking at them with weary eyes. "That's part of the problem. Since she apparently remembers enough to have them, I'm beginning to wonder if the amnesia is the result of her not wanting to remember."

"Why wouldn't she want to remember?" Teyla asked, very much aware of just how close John was to her.

"After all the things we've gone through together, would you?"


	11. Where the White Boys Dance

**Chapter 11: Where the White Boys Dance

* * *

**

She'd never felt more isolated than when she'd arrived into this strange place. There were people everywhere, always touching and crowding and talking, but to look out your window and see for as far as possible only water was not only disconcerting, it was vaguely frightening.

What if Atlantis suddenly sprung a leak and everyone had to evacuate? Were there enough ships to carry them all?

It was a Titanic-esque thought that made Beth wonder just what the hell the Titanic was. Even more disconcerting than this utopia literally in the middle of nowhere were the thoughts that came more and more frequently. She could remember snippets of her life, but nothing linearly and nothing that made sense out of context.

She remembered chocolate and that it was good, but she couldn't _remember_ it; the taste of it, the texture. It was almost an emotional detachment from these things. She could pull up the meaning and picture of some things, but didn't know if she liked them or not. Her people memories were even worse. She knew the people, their faces if not their names, but again, not how she felt about them or what she knew about them.

Having amnesia sucked the big one.

Beth turned from the visage of serene seas beyond 'her' balcony and turned to her companion. He was too busy doing push-ups to notice her gaze and continued to count under his breath as she walked closer.

"What do you think?"

"Of what?" He asked, sparing her a glance through his sweat-sodden golden bangs.

"Of this place. The people, the operation, of the person I'm supposed to be."

"You don't have to be this person, Beth," Shal replied as he slid into a stretch, showing off all those glistening muscles to perfection. Had she mentioned he wasn't wearing a shirt?

She shrugged, sinking down onto the couch to watch as he started to stretch out in various positions. "I don't know that person. I don't know if I want to be or not." Beth kicked him in the side lightly, causing him to fall and sprawl at her feet. It was a nice image. "What do you think of Ronon?"

"I don't."

"Don't what?"

"I don't think of him," Shal replied with a smile, "though it's obvious you do."

"How obvious?"

"Not much, but still obvious."

"He's cute."

"If that's your type."

"What type?"

"Well, your type is male. Mine is female. I don't think of him."

Beth smiled and kicked him again, just as lightly. "He's different from the others."

Shal sighed and stood, pulling her up with him. He pushed her toward the small stack of their clothing even as he commanded that she, "Stretch. We're going for a run."

"Maybe I don't want to run."

"Maybe you don't have a choice."

"Maybe you're bossy."

"Maybe you are."

Beth stopped in the middle of pulling out a pair of stretch pants and turned to stare at Shalimar snidely. "Maybe I am."

* * *

Ronon inhaled a peanut butter and jelly and bananas sandwich while Sheppard felt the need to inform him of what he'd missed during his tour with Beth and Shalimar. Ronon also felt the urge to inform Sheppard of what _he'd_ missed. 

"Beckett thinks she doesn't want to remember?"

John nodded, working his way through his own sandwich (sans bananas) at a slower pace. "It worries me, a bit, that he thinks that. He might be full of shit though."

Ronon smiled, "Has Beckett ever been wrong?"

John grimaced. "Not that I'm aware."

Ronon nodded and they stood in companionable silence for a while. Their food finished, they sat there, stuck in a staring contest neither wanted to concede. Finally, Ronon smiled. "Beth's hot."

John smiled. "You noticed that too?"

Ronon grinned back and shrugged. "Dr. Weir was...attractive before, but there's something there now that wasn't..."

"...there before." John finished the sentence. "Something in the way she moves?"

"The way she speaks?"

"It's different, but I like it," John conceded, slightly guilty about the conversation all around, mostly because this was his **superior** he was speaking of. Another good dose of guilt came from the non-relationship he had with Teyla; non-relationship in that the feelings were there even if the actual relationship wasn't.

Ronon nodded, before looking at his friend again. "Or maybe it's something in the way she throws McKay over her shoulder and into the wall?"

John, who had been delicately sipping at his water (alcohol was not allowed at Atlantis) (and by not-allowed, he means officially), and proceeded to spit it all over his Satedan counter-part. "She did what?"

Ronon shrugged, wiping at the dew drops that slithered down his hair and onto his face. "She didn't like his tone of voice."

John laughed a full belly laugh that hurt from the long absence of any sort of amusement in his life. "You think when she gets her memory back; she'll let me get away with doing the same thing just once?"

"I doubt it. Last I remember, she was still mad about you threatening him with lemons."

"And last I remember, she was still mad at you for threatening him with a knife." John held up his two hands, pantomiming a scale that went back and forth. "Lemon...or knife...lemon...or knife...I think she was madder at you."

Ronon laughed a bit and pulled said knife from his side. The light glinted off the shiny blade, before becoming dampened by the fruit on the table as Ronon hacked at it. "Good thing she has amnesia and doesn't remember those things."

John scoffed, "Yeah, good thing. What do you want to bet that the first thing she says when she's normal again is that we better not have been threatening her baby genius again?"

Ronon slowly ate the fruit, choosing his words carefully. "What if this is her normal?"

"What?"

"Well, what if this is Elizabeth now? We don't know if she's going to get all her memories back, and even if she does, what if she stays the way she is now?" Ronon explained, expounding on thoughts that had whispered in his mind all day. "What if, we never get Elizabeth back, and we're stuck with Beth?"

Sheppard leaned forward, staring right into his friend's cold eyes. "Why are you talking so much? Aren't you supposed to be all quiet and skulky?"

Ronon shrugged and disdainfully ignored his friend's attempt at humor. "I'm going to the gym."

"I will not join you," Sheppard called to Ronon's back as he walked away, "because your optimism is ruining my day!"

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.


	12. Daddy's Eyes

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Marianne. Because...just because. LOL.

Also, this order of senses thing I'm doing in this chapter? Total BS I made up.

The lyrics to this song (all chapter titles are songs by The Killers) are actually really good lyrics that tie into this chapter if anyone is bored and feels like looking them up!

* * *

**Chapter 12: Daddy's Eyes

* * *

**

Scent.

It's the first sense that returns to you after a long uneventful sleep. A long deep sleep that only finds you when you're at your most stressed or wounded. When your mind is busy resetting its awareness and trying to compile a quick update to your memories on what happened before you slept, your five basic senses are jumpstarting.

It's your sense of smell that returns first, which is why most often people will casually note that they woke up to the "smell of coffee" or whatever thing they find most pertinent to mention. It's not that they don't wake up "to the glare of the sun" or "to the sound of people". While both of those may be the one thing they remember most about their morning, most often it's the smell of something that gets to them first.

She stretches in the bed and buries her face under the covers, trying to avoid another long run with Shal and at the same time avoid Atlantis as a whole. She didn't know these people, or who they wanted her to be, and quite frankly she was tired of pretending to be interested in being that person. Just for one day, she didn't want to be told how great she was, or what an inspiration. She didn't want to listen to people she didn't know tell her things about who she wasn't.

She buried herself in those covers, ignoring the light that peaked from the edges, and the sound of laughing the echoed from the nearby couch where Shalimar was busy getting dressed.

Her sheets smelled clean. The room had obviously been cleaned by the time she and Shal had returned yesterday. The bed had been made, their clothes taken for laundering, and a small basket of fruit placed on the now cleared table. In the few days they'd been there, they'd made a mess of the quarters, and Beth hated to clean.

"Are you planning on getting out of bed today? Or should I go get you some breakfast?" His voice was just above the covers, approximately where her head was located.

Sound.

It was next to return, bringing with it the small noises that make up the background of everyday life. The small beep of communicators out in the hall, the wind moving against the tower in which they now resided, the waves crashing against the stationary outpost. All blending into a usually innocuous mixture of notes that was ignored in favor of the more obvious ones.

Beth lay there and enjoyed the smell of her clean sheets and the sound of the water moving against stone and wind. "I'm not hungry."

"I'll be back then. I'll send Gordy over to keep you company."

She could hear his steps move farther away, heavy steps that were oddly punctuated, reflecting the light grace with which Shalimar moved. As the door opened the rumble of passersby filtered through the marginal space the large warrior left in the doorway. Laughter, conversation, a small argument too far away to make out. Friendship and love and some wars all found in the crowd out there. A crowd she was not part of, and she was beginning to think she never had been.

Sight.

Since sleep was elusive and ignorance was not bliss, Beth slid from the covers to stand in the morning light deliciously rumpled and heavy-eyed. Her hair was curled around her face, no longer the relaxed waves she'd tumbled into bed with. Her nightmares brought her to a sweat so often that she looked like Curly Sue when she left the dreams behind.

There was art on the wall. At least, she assumed it was art. Masks and maps and paintings, all beautiful in their own way, she mused as she padded over to the coffee table that bore the fruit basket. One framed picture in particular drew her attention every time she passed.

It was a family, small but obviously loving. A mother, a father, a daughter, and a dog; holding each other with large smiles on their faces as they faced the painter. Beth wondered if it'd been done from a photo, or if they'd actually posed for it.

Though she didn't know it, the little girl was she and the parents her's. The dog had been named Columbus, for his penchant to explore their neighbors' yards. The picture had been done for her eighth birthday, a belated gift from her grandparents. Elizabeth had cherished it, enough to risk bringing it with her when she journeyed to this place.

Beth didn't know that. She just thought it was a pretty picture.

Touch.

The wood of the table was smooth under her hands, cool from the night air but hot in the spot where Shal had kept his morning tea. The small fruit she chose from the lot was also cool in her hand, and she threw it into the air only to catch is just as it began to fall. Her mood was quickly lightening as she left the bad dreams behind her, and her step was light as she started for the balcony.

Gods, the sun was bright when it came off the water. Blinding even, but she didn't mind; she sat in the small chair out there and relaxed into a slouch, still rubbing the fruit with her fingers. It was smooth but waxy, causing the rough patterns of her fingers to catch on the skin in several places.

She let the fruit fall to her lap and stared at her palms. She'd seen pictures and knew that her hands hadn't looked like this before her kidnapping. She'd had artists' fingers, long and tapered with smooth skin that looked soft as silk.

Now, there were scratches and small scars puckering the pads and palm, no doubt a result of the long hard run she'd taken from Kolya's camp. A few cuts in particular had been quite deep and she'd had to have bandages kept on for several days to allow them to heal. One had been right across the fingerprint on her right index finger, slicing the pattern there right in half. Even now healed the entire thing was skewed and uneven. Both sides of the print no longer syncing up quite right.

It wasn't permanent, Beth knew, but it reflected her mood and personality of the moment. The same but not; twisted just a bit so that it's different. Sooner or later, the scar would fade and the print would be the same, but for now Elizabeth was gone, and Beth of the scarred hands was here.

Taste.

The fruit held no appeal, and Shalimar had yet to reappear, and Gordy to appear at all. The wind was blowing through her tank and she got the chills, so she abandoned her post at the balcony and returned inside to wait.

Returning the fruit to the basket, Beth walked slowly to the dresser. She hadn't looked through it, feeling a bit invasive of Elizabeth's things. She was alone, however, and though a bit nervous about looking, her curiosity was the better of it.

The bottom drawers, appropriately, held bottoms; pants, shorts, even a skirt or two, all done in various unimaginative colors. Browns and greens, with some tans thrown in for variety. Also a lot of grays. Beth hated the color gray.

The middle level drawers held tops; tanks, short-sleeves, long-sleeves, and several blouses, again much the same color scheme, though there were several reds and whites thrown in.

Elizabeth was turning out to have very little sense of adventure, clothing-wise.

With a sigh, Beth turned to the top drawers, surprised to find a drawer of practical underclothing...and a drawer not so practical. She may not remember how some of these garments were put on (and some looked complicated indeed), but she could imagine how a man might react if seeing her in them.

Beth was instantly fond of a pair of bright pink shorts, lacy in texture and a bit see-through, and very short. She was reaching for the underwear, intent on trying out just how comfy they might be when her fingers hit something hard in a drawer of soft things.

Brushing aside the wispy panties and bras, she took out the long thin block brightly-wrapped. It was a small thing really, not much bigger than her hand. She was tempted to put it back, to ignore that she'd found it.

It _was_ her's, though, now wasn't it?

Retreating to the sofa, she placed it on the table and stared at the thing for a few moments. There was lots of writing on it, though she didn't know what much of it said. It was a case of the 'almost', as most of her time lately had been.

She almost remembered what it was.

Almost remembered what she was supposed to do with it.

Almost doesn't really count.

With a grim smile and a determined glint in her eye, she unwrapped the bright outer paper, only to find golden foil beneath. Unwrapping that as well, she found herself holding a small bar of brown substance. Hard, but not unbreakable, so she experimented with breaking it into pieces first.

She smelled it, but there was really nothing to smell. The vague scent of aluminum foil was on it, but she knew that wasn't its scent.

She felt the texture of it, smooth and rough on the edges. Writing had been pressed into it, a branding maybe?

It made no sound, and wasn't much to look at. She didn't know what it was, and it frustrated her.

She started to set it down, to ask Ronon about it when he and Shalimar eventually came to retrieve her, like the errant child everyone so often treated her as. On a last second whim, she licked a small piece, already moving to set it back down when it struck her, a thought.

She put a whole piece in her mouth, chewing slowly.

She began to cry.

It wasn't an 'almost', not this thing. She _remembered_ it. She remembered its taste, it's texture, the many ways it could be made, the many tastes, the many mixtures, the many times she'd eaten this as comfort in a too stressful life.

Gordy walked through the door, immediately concerned because he saw his best girl sitting there quietly smiling and crying at the same time.

He kneeled at her side, his hands taking her and looking into her large blue eyes. "Who hurt you? I'll kill them. You want me to kill them? I'll do it violently, I promise."

Beth smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, so grateful to have someone to hold in that moment, someone who might understand this momentous thing. She leaned back and pressed a kiss against his lips. "Want some chocolate?"

It was only later that she thought to herself that she'd certainly been right. Ronon's eyes were the color of chocolate.


	13. Change Your Mind

A/N: Now, we are moving into the second part of our story, where Elizabeth well and truly starts to come back. Hold on to your panties...'cause I'm not sure she is...

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Change My Mind

* * *

**

"Electro-shock whatwhat?" Beth asked in a scandalized tone, not sure what it was, but knowing that it didn't sound very nice.

Dr. Beckett stepped closer; though she hoped not too much closer considering they had company in the small examination room and she didn't want things to get...tense. Gordy was never fond of anyone who overstepped personal boundaries. "It's not as bad as it sounds, Elizabeth. With Ancient technology, it's painless, with only mild seizures having ever occurred."

"Seizures?!"

"It could help you remember faster, stimulate certain areas of your brain that deal with long-range memory storage. Just small ten-minute sessions to begin with, to see if it can be beneficial."

Beth slid from the cold table where she'd been receiving a brain scan and glared at the strange-speaking Earthling before her. "You want to electrocute my brain. That doesn't sound healthy at all. Maybe you need to be seeing the Colony's therapist, and not me."

Beckett laughed, "It's a perfectly acceptable procedure, and it quite successful with amnesiacs."

"Go electrocute yourself, 'cause you ain't getting near me!" Beth exclaimed while she started to slide into her clothing behind a screen. She could hear Gordy snickering on the other side. "You better not be laughing at me, Gordy."

"I am."

"Oh, well, that's just nice. One guy wants to jumpstart my brain, and the other finds it funny," Beth muttered as she poked her head around the screen. "I need better bodyguards. You're actually going to let that maniac stick probes in my head!" Beckett, though still present, was now being ignored.

"My people have a similar technique, Beth. We use herbs to stimulate a trance-like state before using extreme physical sensations to cause reactions."

Beckett became interested in Gordy rather than in listing the advantages of electrical therapies. "What kind of herbs? And sensations?"

"Mainly herbs that are natural to our world, little of it that remains," Gordy explained, taking care to keep the door and windows in sight at all times as he moved closer to speak to Dr. Beckett. "I saw one such procedure formed where a man was shot to stimulate memories of a battle he'd fought in long ago."

"Shot? Your doctors purposely shot a man?!" Beckett was agape.

"It wasn't a critical wound, merely a flesh one," Gordy said nonchalantly. "It worked as well, which is why I brought Beth to speak to you."

"Yes, you told me she had a flash of memory," Beckett brought the conversation round again and turned back to Elizabeth. "I sincerely hope you're not thinking of shooting yourself."

Beth laughed as she stumbled to Gordy's side, using his arm as a balance and slid on her shoes. "No, but the principle is the same. Gordy and I were talking about what his people do in this circumstance, and I've done a bit of the same. Been in Elizabeth's room, walked down halls she'd walked down, and it's helping some. I do remember a few things." She warily eyed Beckett, unsure how he would take to her next idea. "I was thinking maybe...I'd more easily remember...if I went through my day just as I would if I remembered. Maybe by doing the things Elizabeth did, I can remember who she is."

"Who you are," Beckett corrected automatically, sighing as he sat down on a small wheeled chair. "I'm not sure Colonel Sheppard would approve. He doesn't want," he glanced at Gordy, "any visitors in the command areas. Truthfully, he doesn't really want you there until you're recovered. Things are tense these days, and he doesn't want a situation occurring anywhere critical."

"Surely you can convince him to let me have a walk-through, at least? From what I've seen of Elizabeth's logs, she spent most of her time in command areas. You want me to see familiar people and places, but you're keeping me from what would be most familiar of all," Beth said, for an instant invoking the quiet strength that Elizabeth had carried so deep inside her. Beckett watched her watching him and knew that they were closer to having their Elizabeth back than anyone realized.

For all her ramblings that she might never get her memory back, since Beth had returned to Atlantis she'd already begun to change. The overt attitude she'd first displayed was easing away in favor of a grace of spirit that was purely Elizabeth. In only a day, she'd recovered more of herself than she had in a month on another world.

Dr. Beckett stood, taking her hands. "I'll speak to him, but I don't know how malleable he'll be."

"That's all I ask," Beth replied, trying not to be too obvious as she hastily removed her hands from his. She'd never liked being touched to touching, except when it came to certain people.

Silently, she and Gordy left the medical area and walked the halls. It was mid-afternoon, not quite early enough for the night-shift people to be about, but late enough that the morning shift was already safely ensconced in their quarters or recreational activities. The three-shift rotation on Atlantis was crafted so that the shifts themselves weren't overly long, and allowed for time to be spent in relaxation or other pursuits. Elizabeth had always taken the morning shift and the afternoon shift, working from seven in the morning to 1900 in the night.

Beth paused in her walking; not recognizing the number her thoughts had just given her. Little did she know she was thinking in military time, instead of the Earth-time she'd unconsciously been using for the past month.

"What's wrong?"

She smiled up at the Gordy's strong features. "Nothing. I'm bored. Let's go cause trouble."

"Shal won't appreciate that."

"Who gives a fig what Shalimar thinks?"

"What's a fig?"

"I have no idea, but I don't give one!"

* * *

Speaking of, Shalimar was at that very moment seated in Elizabeth's office facing off with Colonel Sheppard. They didn't speak, instead staring intensely into each other's eyes as a battle of wills of immense proportions unfolded. 

Sheppard broke first. "So, you're trying to say that your people would like to embark on an alliance with Atlantis?"

Shal nodded slowly. "If that would be agreeable."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "Your government currently allies themselves with Kolya, I'm pretty sure that's a conflict."

"We think you would be a better alliance."

"So, your government is flaky, breaking promises as it suits them?" Sheppard asked with an "A-ha!" look to his face.

Shal sighed. "I'm not a diplomat; I won't play the word game with you. We've been considering breaking truce with Kolya for many months. The mission where we discovered Beth was a last ditch effort to patch the differences. It didn't work, and by protecting her as we have, the little friendship we have between our people has been broken. When Gordy and I return to our planet, I'm certain we'll immediately be sent into battle. I think that with Atlantis's support, we can prevent that and the death of many of my people."

Sheppard was not an unsympathetic man. In fact, before Shalimar had even sought him out, he'd made the decision to send a diplomatic team to Shalimar's world. Still, he wasn't about to let the warrior before him off easy. "Just you and Gordy returning?"

Shal immediately picked up on the innuendo. "If she wants to come, she's welcome. I won't force her to stay somewhere she doesn't want to."

Shep nodded. "When do you think you're going to head back?"

Shal sighed and leaned back into his chair. "My leader is asking that I return within the week."

"I doubt Elizabeth will have her memory back by then," Shep noted, stepping around the large desk that was her's.

"If Beth so chooses to remain, I have no quarrel, if she wants to return with me, I expect none from you." It wasn't a question, but a command, and Sheppard was a man used to receiving them. Still, this one didn't sit well with him.

"I doubt she'll want to."

"Why is that?"

John grinned. "We're so damn lovable."

Shal laughed and stood. "I think we know where we stand, Colonel."

"I've already sent a team to discuss alliance with your government. This little talk wasn't really necessary."

Shal paused at the door. "It was informative nonetheless."

Even as Shal disappeared from sight, there was a small voice in Shep's ear demanding his attention. "Sir, we've got a problem."

"What?" Shep asked, recognizing the voice as one of those he'd assigned to shadow Elizabeth.

"We've...um..."

"Spit it out, soldier!"

"We've lost the target."

"Just how did you do that?"

"Um...well...it's complicated."

"It always is," Sheppard muttered even as he entered the command center. "Hey, you!" He'd never been in here often enough to learn names. "Scan for Dr. Weir."

The man looked at Sheppard like he was crazy. "Can't really do that, sir."

"Why not? I've seen you do it before!"

"I could locate her...if she was wearing her headset. She's not, therefore, I can't."

Sheppard muttered a few obscenities. "Alright, we'll have to find her the old fashioned way."

"What was is that, sir?"

Sheppard glared even as he signaled for Ronon and Teyla. "By looking for her on foot. She can't have gotten far."

If he only knew...


	14. A Great Big Sled

LOL...Marianne...half the time you're my ONLY reviewer. ROBIN. So don't feel bad. It happens.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: A Great Big Sled

* * *

**

Beth couldn't think of any sight that was truly more beautiful.

Miles upon miles of azure ocean just stretching out as far as could be seen. She'd gotten a glimpse of it from Atlantis, but it was nothing compared to this. This was perfection.

Ocean before, ocean behind, ocean below. Waves that frolicked and danced in the wind, beasts below the surface moving like hidden treasures forever eluding discovery; it was wondrous with its feral nature and Beth felt a kinship she'd not known before.

She couldn't identify with the Atlantians or the Athosians, both different people in so many ways.

She couldn't identify with Atlantis itself, marooned in the middle of a large ocean, so alone that she could feel its pain.

She could empathize but not identify.

Looking down at the ocean and the fast approaching mainland, Beth surmised that it was the planet itself that called to her. Mostly empty nothingness with a dash of life. A mirror of Beth's mind as of late.

To think, that if Colonel Sheppard had had his way, she'd never have seen this. She'd never have felt the land calling to her. Mostly because Sheppard didn't want her leaving anyone's sight until she had her memory back.

Would she still feel this connection if she had her memory? Or would she lock away any sentimental yearnings in favor of being the cold, implacable leader?

"This was a good idea," Beth said aloud, pressing buttons on the console before her and pretending she knew what she was doing.

Gordy, her companion, her accomplice, and her bodyguard du jour, was really piloting the Puddlejumper.

The Puddlejumper they'd stolen from Atlantis half an hour ago after ditching their "escort".

"Just great. Why don't you come visit me when they throw me in some sort of imprisonment for stealing?" He said with a cheeky grin, expertly manipulating the controls.

"I'll most likely be in there with you," Beth noted, kicking back and putting her feet up in pure relaxation.

"I doubt it."

"Why?"

"They love you."

"They love Elizabeth."

"Like I said."

The Death-Glare she sent his way had no effect. "I'd visit you."

Gordy laughed. "Good to know...would they be naked visits?"

She kicked him in the shoulder. "No."

"Ah, well, break my heart, why don't you?"

They bantered back and forth with alarming speed, watching through the front view as the land came closer...and not watching their back where two Puddlejumpers were fast catching up.

The sudden blare of the proximity alarm had them jumping, and in Gordy's case sliding automatically into evasive turns, banking to the right and hitting thrusters going into a spin. The 'Jumpers followed, splitting up and straddling their 'Jumper.

Another alarm beeped, signaling that one of the vehicles was trying to contact them. "They wanna talk. I told you we'd get in trouble."

Beth leaned over his shoulder looking out the window and at their radar. "Wanna get in more trouble?"

Gordy aimed an unreadable look at her. "That depends, you want me to shoot them down?"

Beth laughed, "No, you murder-minded fiend. I was thinking more along the lines of we go in low and hide in the trees and mountains."

"What would that accomplish?"

"We could stay out all night. Drive Shalimar crazy with worry. Watch the stars. Go hiking," she thumped him on the chest with her palm. "You could even go hunting."

He grinned up at her, sliding his own hand down her arm to where her hand rested over his heart. Patting it softly, he removed it. "Go strap in. We're gonna go a little crazy in a minute."

* * *

Sheppard watched with an increasingly shocked face as the Puddlejumper before him bobbed and weaved before ducking into the valleys and peaks that made up the Mountain system. Beth and Gordy's vehicle increased speed, and Sheppard tried to match. Ronon and Teyla grabbed the arms of their seats as Sheppard followed the wayward 'Jumper turn for turn.

"He's very skilled," Teyla thought aloud as her eyes along with her two companions' tracked the shuttle ahead of them.

"Thank you," Sheppard replied through gritted teeth, all his concentration on keeping the shuttle airborne and not crashing into a cliff or the forest below.

"I was talking about Gordy."

"Oh...well..." Sheppard could think of no reply, all charm focused on the chase.

It wasn't so much that they'd stolen the shuttle.

It wasn't that they'd tried to escape, since, technically they hadn't. They'd taken a joyride, most likely born of boredom and restlessness. Sheppard himself had dealt with the problem often.

The fact that Sheppard was following was mostly because he could. The thrill of the hunt, if you will. He'd spent the last month in Atlantis, looking for Elizabeth, his miniscule adrenaline-high coming from flirtation with Teyla and sparring with Ronon when it should have come from fighting Wraith, almost dying, and returning victorious. The beast inside him clawed for a released, like an addict denied his fix.

So Sheppard gave in.

He chased the 'Jumper before him because it excited him to buzz the trees below, to slip through openings in cliffs that scraped the paint, to push the machine faster he'd dared while on-planet.

It was fun up until they lost Beth and Gordy.

They were swinging around a cylindrical cliff riddled with mile wide-crevices. At any other speed it'd have taken at least ten minutes to go all the way around, but with Sheppard pushing it he made it within five.

He still lost them.

"Where the hell..." he muttered as he frantically started checking his radar and all the equipment.

"What is wrong?" Teyla asked as she moved to stand behind Sheppard.

"I lost them!"

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know. Damn thing is malfunctioning or something."

Ronon grinned. "Or maybe you're not as good as you think."

"Hey! No comments from the peanut gallery!"

Ronon snickered and Teyla shushed him. "Perhaps we should look around some more, or return to Atlantis?"

"Let's do a few more rounds. If I can't pick him up, we'll go back and let the egg-heads take a look."

* * *

Directly below Sheppard and matching angle and speed, Gordy resisted the urge to giggle. "Now that was tricky."

Beth slipped her arms around his neck. "That was awesome, that's what that was. The way you cut engines and hidden as a shadow of the cliff until they came by and then slid under them where they couldn't detect us? Brilliant!"

"Yeah, now we just have to wait until they leave then slip back up against the cliff so they don't detect us again."

"Why didn't we just say against the cliff and not risk them detecting us?"

"They're doing a sweep of the cliff wall, visually and with radar. Under close inspection, they'd detect us," Gordy explained as he tweaked a few buttons. "This way though, when they get low enough, we'll just cut engines and coast to a stop in the trees. They won't see us or detect us, or expect to. It's mostly about expectation. They don't think they'll see us, they won't. Plus, this close to the cliff, if it's got even a little metal ore in it then it'll help hide us."

Beth looked down at Gordy and smiled. "You're a lot smarter than you let off, you know that?"

He nodded with a somber grin. "Before I was recruited into the militia, I was a geologist. Nothing I liked more than going out on a mountain like this and just looking at what I can find. Levels upon levels of different ages and animals. All compacted into the ground in precise little rows."

She pressed her cheeks to his. "A physical representation of history, in a way."

"Yeah. It's been a while since I had the time to appreciate it."

She stood and grinned. "Let's go rock looking."

He smiled and shook his head. "Nah, no use indulging in something I won't get to do every again."

Beth took the copilot seat and stared at him. "You keep saying I don't have to stay here if I don't want to."

He agreed, "I do."

"Well, you don't have to go back if you don't want to. I'm the Leader of Atlantis; if I want you to stay you can stay. You can be look at dirt again," she explained with a smile.

Gordy was bitter as he shook his head. "My people need me." He looked her straight in the eyes. "Just like your people need you."

"Maybe I don't want to be needed."

"Don't have a choice, Beth. None of us do."

With a few deft movements of his fingers, Gordy shut off the engine and ended the conversation. As Sheppard and Co. headed back for Atlantis, their 'Jumper started arcing towards the rocky shoulder where cliff met ground.

"Umm...Gordy...that spot has a lot of sharp rocks..."

"Hold on," he commanded adjusting the controls just a bit before tightening his seat's straps. Beth did the same and watched wide-eyed as the ground came up very quickly.

They hit with a small explosion of gravel, bouncing up and down for a minute before sliding a good thirty feet and into the wall of rock. Though they were a bit jittery, they were fine.

They climbed out and studied the Puddlejumper, grinning as they took in the minute scratches that were barely there. "This is a very well-made shuttle."

She nodded. "Ancient Technology and all that." She grinned, looping her arm with his. "Let's go run through the forest and be free!"

He stared down at her with a skeptical look. "You go run, I'm gonna see if I can build a camp. It'll be dark soon."

Beth grinned and took off for the dark trees nearby screaming as she did, "Yessir!"


	15. All the Pretty Faces

No one loves me. I get pitiful one or two reviews per chapter. I feel so UNLOVED. Unloved people do not update very quickly.

Yes, that is a threat.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: All the Pretty Faces

* * *

**

The forest was a blur on the edges of her eyes but she didn't care. She was focusing on what was before her, not behind. The journey was what was important, not the origin or the end. She wanted to feel her breathe strain in her lungs, because she was so tired of thinking.

She was even tired of not-being who everyone wanted. Tired of not being who she wanted. Tired of being asked questions, tired of having no answers. Tired of constantly having someone at her side. Tired of so many things at once that it made her head ache to think of it.

Beth ran because she wanted to forget even the little that she knew. She'd been born running and had run straight to Shalimar's protective arms, a place she hadn't left for weeks.

As much as she loved the safety he provided, she missed being alone. It was one of the few things she might remember. She didn't remember the people of her past, the things she'd done. She remembered feeling alone, though, and knew that it was the way she'd always been. On the outside looking in, maybe even slightly superior to it all.

She ran because it was the first thing she could remember doing.

Her lungs burned as she sucked in air, her legs pumping up and down, moving through the trees with oddly gazelle-like leaps. Her hair curled with sweat around her forehead and her ferine eyes darted to and fro. She wasn't thinking in these moments.

She was feeling. The dirt beneath her feet, the wind on her sensitive skin, even the rough feel of bark on her passing fingertips. She was moving in a large arc, eventually intending to rejoin Gordy back at 'camp', but for now she was free.

No expectations, no observers. Just nothing.

A twig snapped nearby and she jerked to a stop, slamming her small body into the trunk of a large tree. Her breath rushed in and out loudly, but she'd been moving for so long and so fast that she could no longer control it. Her hands burned where she'd scraped them and she fisted them to try and alleviate the stretching pain of movement in them.

Another sound, the rustle of grass underfoot, closer; she flattened herself to the tree, trying to hide in the shadows but knowing instinctively that it's futile. The damn red shirt that Elizabeth had so many copies of made her very easily seen.

The movement was coming closer, clearly a person now. She could hear the two steps, circling around cautiously, their owner very much aware that she knew she was being hunted. She tensed, going piano-wire taunt in preparation to run. When she heard it, a small sliding sound to her right, she thrust off from the tree, striking South back towards camp, unprepared for just how close her guest had come.

A strong hand wrapped around her wrist, jerking her back against a large and hard chest before twisting that same arm around until she'd turned into the man's arms, for it surely was a man. As Beth was pressed into the tree, she inhaled sharply and struggled to break free.

Why was she always being captured? Could she never escape the countless people who wanted to use and manipulate her?

She hit the immovable force before her and realized belatedly that he'd moved his hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream. Biting hit palm, she wrestled her head back so that she could see his face.

Ronon Dex looking scrumptious and flushed as he fought to contain her spitfire ferocity was swearing down at her and looking gorgeous as he did so.

Content that he wasn't some abductor, she let him.

He pressed a button on the side of his earpiece and began to speak. "I've looked but I'm not seeing her. It's getting dark, we should call everyone back in until morning."

She couldn't hear Sheppard's response but Ronon grinned down at her.

"I'll head over to the Athosian village. No point in coming back in when I'll just be coming back out in the morning."

Another whisper of words through the comm. and Ronon waited until Sheppard was finished cursing at him to slip it off and into his pocket. "You okay?"

"I'm being pressed against a tree by a seven foot tall demi-god," Beth replied with a sultry smile. "I'm fine."

He grinned back and released her, keeping a grasp on her wrist. "Where's your camp?"

"About two miles South," they started walking in the direction, he never released her arm. "Why did you turn me in?"

He didn't answer, ignoring the question. He looked wicked in the waning light, shadows forming over his eyes, his hair coiling in the wing almost like snakes. She pulled on one long strand and jerked to a stop.

He turned to her with a sardonic twist of the eyebrows almost a perfect mimicry of the one Teyla did. "What?"

"Why didn't you turn me in?"

He looked to the ground, then looked her straight in the eye. "Because I know what it's like to want to run."

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and the trio should've been asleep. They'd dined on rations from the Puddlejumper, before sitting around the fire Gordy had built and told stories. Gordy told action stories, filled with his heroic doings during battles with the Wraith, and humorous stories of his time in advanced education, learning geology; all those stories were tinged with sadness and Beth knew she wasn't the only one to notice.

Ronon also told stories of war and of his time spent running. Of the various worlds he'd come across, the various peoples. He compared scars with Gordy, told amusing anecdotes about the Atlantians, and never once did he try and force a story of Elizabeth down her throat. In fact, he only spoke of her in passing, and he ever acted like she was sitting beside him around a campfire.

He was the first one here to speak to her as if she were really Beth, and not Elizabeth.

When Gordy cuddled into one of the blankets from storage, and the fire died down so that only the moon really illuminated the camp, Beth made her move.

He was lying on his back staring into the stars. His eyes were dreamy, thoughts miles away. She wanted to run her fingers down his face, feel every groove and stubble that was there. She wanted to dig her fingers into his shoulder and watch pain cross his face.

She wanted him to show some sort of emotion, because back in the forest, when he'd spoken of running was the first time she'd ever seen it. She'd watched his face for the past two days, he'd been her liaison in this world, and she'd only just realized that he was so cold. So alone amongst all these people, his emotions hidden beneath a rugged exterior.

She wanted inside.

So she waited until they were as alone as they could possibly be, and she crawled to his side. Lying down so that their sides touched, she knew she had his attention.

Not saying anything, she slid her hand into his and was content to simply be. For once, she was content to simply _be_.

Ronon turned on his side, not releasing her hand but drawing it up so that he could study it, seeking out the small scars felt there. She turns her head to watch him look, and doesn't resist when he draws her hand closer to his face. She can feel him breathe, and there's a look in his eyes that makes it all but impossible for her.

She slides a little closer, fitting into the nook of his shoulder now. He releases her hand and let's his arm fall, so that's where she lays her head. He passes his free hand through the soft mahogany curls that lay against her pale skin and finds himself fascinated by the way they contrast so.

And when she brushes her lips against his, he responds as gently as she started it. He doesn't cradle her face as he wants to, or crush her soft and frail body to his. He doesn't fist his hands in her hair and make her moan from pleasure.

He brushes his knuckles down her cheeks and pulls away.

Because this isn't Elizabeth. This is Beth, and he's finally realizing that they are two separate people.

Across the camp, Gordy, never asleep and always watching, grinned. "You two wanna borrow the Puddlejumper or are you good right there?"

Beth smiled softly even as she flipped Gordy off, though he didn't know what the gesture meant. He got the gist, however. She didn't stop staring at Ronon even as she moved to slide away. "I've never done that before."

He shook his head. "No, you haven't."

"It feels good to not repeat myself."

He smiled and turned back to the sky, content to let sleep claim him. He could hear her moving to her own palette, a small giggle escaping as she glanced over at him and slid inside. It wasn't an overly sexual tension between them.

They didn't want to fuck, have sex, or make love. Not yet.

For now, they were content to feel out this new thing. It wasn't something Elizabeth would ever have done, especially not with Ronon.

As she kept saying, Beth was not Elizabeth.

It'd felt good to kiss her, Ronon mused to himself, his fingers tingling where he'd touched her.

It had felt very good.


	16. Move Away

A/N: I know this new chapter took a while. My Heroes Muses beat the sardines out of all my other muses and they've been nursing their broken bones for a while. They're back now to fight for their territory, so let's see what they've got...

**Chapter Sixteen: Move Away**

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, sir."

"Don't sir me in that tone of voice."

"Sorry, sir."

"You endangered not only your own life, but the lives of two others as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you okay?"

Beth grinned up at Shalimar's concerned face that was still flushed from the verbal lashing he'd just delivered to her and Gordy. "I'm good."

Gordy didn't speak at all; he could still feel the sting of both Colonel Sheppard's glare and Shalimar's. Instead, he waited until the two men had focused on Beth and slipped out a side door. He didn't notice that the third member of their camping party had followed him.

"Gordy," Ronon said softly as he appeared beside the not-so-quickly fleeing warrior. They matched paces and slowly made their way away from the dressing-down that was most likely still going down in Elizabeth's office. "I'd like to speak to you."

"You are speaking to me, Satedan," Gordy said snidely as he met the eyes of the man beside him. Gordy wasn't sure where the attitude was coming from; he'd woken up this morning and had felt incredibly out-of-sorts. He was on a world he didn't know, with people he didn't know, doing things he'd most likely never-have-done before. Maybe it was the freedom Atlantis represented, maybe Beth was a bad influence, or maybe it was just dawning on his mind that he well and truly could never go back.

He would never be the geologist he once was. He'd never have that family he'd once thought of. He was a warrior.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Gordy hesitated on the threshold of the dining area as that thought resonated in his mind, but he forced a smile on his face as he turned to his companion. "I'm going to die."

Ronon gaped a bit at this sudden statement and his eyes swiveled in their sockets as he took in their surroundings. "Right now?"

Gordy grinned. "No."

Ronon breathed a sigh of relief, he really didn't need another death laid at his feet, and started for the small line of people receiving rations. "Soon?"

"Most likely."

Ronon grabbed some fruit and some cupcakes, before settling for a roast beef (or whatever the Athosian equivalent was) sandwich and heading for a table. Gordy grabbed a piece of Athosian-Equivalent-Apple Pie and followed.

"What brought on this sudden realization of your own mortality?"

Gordy stared over at Ronon with a bemused expression on his face. "That's a whole lot of words coming out of your mouth. I seem to recall you were supposed to be the quiet one."

"Who told you that?"

"Teyla."

Ronon glared at Gordy over his lunch tray. "Don't change the subject."

"Didn't you say you wanted to talk to me?"

"I do."

"Then talk."

Ronon obstinately kept chewing at his sandwich and didn't speak. After several minutes of staring each other down, Ronon acquiesced and broke the silence. "What you saw last night between me and Beth? Don't tell anyone."

"Is that an order?"

Ronon studied the twist of Gordy's eyebrow and shook his head. "No, a request."

"Why you making this request?"

"Her friends would make it difficult for her if they knew what was between us."

Gordy smiled. "There's something between you."

Ronon's face immediately closed down and went cold. "That's between her and me."

Gordy didn't dance around the subject. "Look, he doesn't want to admit it but Shal and me aren't going to be able to stay much longer. Kolya knows Beth was on our planet, he's been pressuring to search for weeks. As soon as we left, he was let in to do his search and something tells me it's not over. I want to know if someone here will be looking out for _Beth_'s interests when we leave."

"Everyone here is looking out for her," Ronon noted, ignoring the emphasis Gordy put on her name. "You make it sound like she'd stay. If you and your leader left, she'd most likely go with you."

Gordy smiled at the naïve man before him. "If you really believe that, then you haven't been paying attention."

Ronon glared. "And what do you mean by that?"

Gordy changed the subject. "When you spend most of your life fighting or training to fight, you miss out on things. You spend so much time with blood on your hands, so much time trying to keep it there or get it off, that life just passes you by."

"You feeling sentimental today, or what?"

Gordy sighed and pushed away from the table. "Or what."

* * *

Her quarters were dim and quiet when she finally made her way back to them. Her bed had been made and the entire area straightened up in her absence. Beth felt oddly invaded at the thought of someone moving through her belongings, the few she'd brought with her anyways.

Shal followed her in but stopped just inside the entrance. Beth had been in an odd mood all day, ever since he and Sheppard had arrived near the campsite this morning and forced the trio there to return to Atlantis. Though she'd been her normal cheeky self most of the time, every once and while her eyes would glaze over as if her mind was somewhere else entirely.

"Beth?"

She ignored him in favor of looking out over her balcony. The angle and level of her quarters made it so that she didn't even see any of the other Towers. All she saw was the smooth horizon of the ocean, with small dimples in it winking at her almost joyfully.

Shal finally truly entered the quarters, and followed her to the balcony. "Beth?"

"What?" She asked softly, still not looking at him.

"I got a communiqué from my superiors while you were gone."

She turned to stare at him. "When do you leave?"

"We have two days; then we're expected back."

Beth looked back at the ocean. "I'm coming with you."


	17. Somebody Told Me

A/N: ...it has been brought to my attention that this story is "dragging". Normally such a critique would anger me...however I'm the one who made that revelation...only to have it BACKED UP by my most consistent reader/reviewer. So, in the spirit of this...only two or three chapters are left. It's time to start wrapping things up. Be prepared, faithful readers...all three of you...

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Somebody Told Me**

* * *

They faced off over the safety mat; the few people there this early in the morning were milling around in the corners. Neither noticed the audience because the crowd simply didn't matter. Warriors were trained to focus on the task at hand and the bets and jokes flying around the edges of their senses were of no importance. 

Ronon cracked his knuckles and removed his leather-ish vest. He'd made it from the skin of some animal he'd killed several years back and weathering had smoothed the skin down to a shiny varnish. It was one of his favorites and he had no desire to see it marred while he kicked his opponent's ass. That was something he was almost sure he would do. They were evenly matched physically and skillfully, yet Ronon had the assurance of home turf.

Shalimar remained fully clothed. As usual he wore a short sleeved softly-knit shirt and a harder material in his slacks. The style was military-esque, almost uniform like. His blond hair was pulled back and his face seemed sharply angled with the added softness his hair gave it. He looked fierce and god-like in his silence. He remained stilled as Ronon moved about, removing various things from his clothing and his upper body. Shalimar didn't remove anything but the knives hidden at his back.

In the spirit of chivalry Ronon did the same.

Finally they faced off again, blue eyes clashing with brown ones until with a roar they flew at each other. The crowd gasped as Shalimar hesitated just outside of Ronon's reach, waiting until Ronon was close and wrapping an arm around his waist, throwing the large man's balance off and using his momentum to send him sailing into the wall.

The wall where there was no safety mats.

Ronon wiped blood from his split lip and attacked again, this time with a bit more caution. Shal parried his punches and kicks easily, moving fluidly like a cat in the face of Ronon's more forceful style.

The way the two men moved in the halls of Atlantis, with the same grace and caution might have convinced some that they'd fight the same way, with the same mannerisms and personality. Those people would have been wrong. Like night and day, the two men fought in completely opposite manners. Ronon was all passion and strength to Shalimar's patience and inaction. Ronon attacked and Shalimar retreated, but never in a way that made it seem cowardly. It was more that Shalimar won by simply never allowing Ronon to land a blow. He manipulated his opponent's movements and anticipated them, allowing him to move or exact a subtle push causing Ronon to injure himself.

It was almost like watching a dance in which Ronon, once thought to be damn near unbeatable, got his pride handed to him on a silver platter.

Ronon tried one last move aiming low as if to tackle Shalimar, who braced to move to the side and send Ronon careening into the wall again, only to be surprised. Ronon slid to the floor at the last minute, kicking out with his legs and sending Shalimar falling to the ground with a thump.

The wind rushed from his lungs and by the time his vision cleared and he could see again, Ronon was at his throat with a small dagger and a glint in his eyes. Shalimar tilted his head to the side and smiled a little. "I thought we agreed no weapons?"

Ronon grinned. "I never play fair."

"So, I see," Shal nodded a little and remained on the ground as Ronon eased off and stood before he took Ronon's offered helping hand up. "It was a good battle. If you were not so hot-headed you might have even beat me. Your mind moves quick and your body just as much."

Ronon nodded and rubbed an idle hand along one of his ribs that were particularly sore. He'd have to see Dr. Beckett after this. The two men glared at the people that remained in the gym until they'd fled the room. They both sat down with a sigh, a little lost at what to do.

"I think she should stay," Shalimar said suddenly. Ronon's head turned sharply to glance at him. "I think she is who you say she is and that you all care a great deal for her."

Ronon thought back to that night on the mainland and found himself nodding. "All of us."

Shalimar sighed and leaned back into the small seats that lined the large window and rubbed his aching neck. "She had nightmares again last night."

"What are the nightmares about? Has she ever told you?"

Shalimar shook his head. "She doesn't tell me specifics, but I'm almost certain they're violent. She moves in her sleep almost like she's fighting something or someone. If I try to wake her, I usually only get a bruise or two for my troubles."

Ronon snorted. "That's more than I managed to give you."

Shalimar grinned and poked one blue bruise already forming on Ronon's arm. "You should learn patience."

"I don't have time to wait."

"I hope you have time to shower," Beth said from the door as she finally found the man she was looking for. She glared at Shalimar. "You weren't at breakfast."

"I had a prior appointment," Shal replied with a grin.

Beth was not amused. "Instead of spending quality morning time with me...you came and spent it with another man?"

Shal shrugged. "I haven't had a good spar in days."

Ronon stood and started toward the door. "I'm hungry."

Beth sidestepped quickly as the sweat-covered Satedan came near. Almost involuntarily her eyes slid down his impressive chest and back up to his face...before freezing on a spot just off center of his abdomen.

The feel of her small smooth fingers on his skin had Ronon freezing in the doorway, just scant inches between him and Elizabeth. She ran a nail down the ripple of scar that marred his side. It was one of his newest ones and was still pink.

She couldn't know that she herself had given it to him weeks ago while possessed by an alien spirit, could she?

Beth let her hand fall as she stepped back and slammed into the doorway. Ronon automatically put his hands out to catch her if she fell but doing that made her retreat faster. She gasped for air as she hit the doorframe; she'd been holding her breath the entire time she'd been touching Ronon.

Her eyes glazed over, her hand covering her lips as she stared blindly. "I did that," she whispered. "I put that there. I almost killed you."

Ronon rubbed the scar with a callused-finger and nodded slowly. "Yeah, but-"

She'd already turned and ran. Ronon started to go after her, to explain the circumstances of the incident but Shalimar held him back. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I think I know her better than you. Let me talk to her. You go see Beckett."

Shal was already moving down the corridor and Ronon had to use every bit of strength left in him to not follow. There'd been a wild look in Beth's eyes as she'd whispered. The look had been a bit of fear, bit of instinct, and a good chunk of knowledge. She'd remembered something.

* * *

She was packing when he came into the room. Throwing things into a bag and muttering under her breath, she didn't even pause as she pushed past him into the living area. Beth grabbed several knick knacks off the tables and put them in the bag, picking and choosing almost randomly. 

"Why that statue?" Shalimar asked as he studied her movements. She'd expected him to speak and she whirled around at his question.

"If I asked you to, would you do something for me?"

"Depends on what."

"Don't ask."

"Then I can't promise anything," Shalimar responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

She stepped closer, dropping the bag and pressing her face into his chest. He hugged her and struggled to understand what she was going through. "No, I mean I don't want you to ask. I know you want to know what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, but for the sake of my sanity," she looked up at him, "please don't ask."

His arms slipped away and he stepped back. "I have to."

The silence stretched seconds into hours.

"What did you remember?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Elizabeth replied as she picked up her bag and resumed throwing things into it.

"Yes, you do. You want to tell me about it because you don't know what to make of it." He wrapped long fingers around her wrists and stopped her frantic movements. "You're more Elizabeth in this moment than I remember you ever being."

She jerked away. "What are you talking about?"

"Yesterday you didn't want to take anything with you when we left. Now you're packing things like you can't live without them. Not only that, you're choosing what you want to take."

The bag fell to the floor as if it'd burned her hands and she pushed sweaty curls off her forehead. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Elizabeth, tell me."

"No!"

She went for the bedroom, unprepared for his movements as he threw her over his shoulder and moved to the couch where he threw her down. "You're not moving until we resolve this."

She sat up with a huff that was tinged with tears that they both pretended to ignore. "Why does everything have to be talked about? Why can't some things _just be_?"

"It's our nature. Some fight, some talk, and some do nothing."

She sighed and ran trembling hands through her hair. "I shot him."

"Ronon?"

"Yes. I shot and almost killed him. I remember it very clearly. I was kissing Sheppard and then he'd pulled a gun on me and I had one on him. I ran away and was hiding or looking for something. Ronon came after me and I shot him. Then it gets blurry. I remember seeing him all wrapped up in bandages and hooked up to machines and feeling such intense guilt."

"You don't know the circumstances of it. You don't know how it happened."

She stood and started to pace. "I remember other incidents. Other times. Shooting at different people, people shooting at me, explosions, arguments; sometimes it seems that every memory I get something is going wrong. I'm almost always at the center of it."

"From what these people tell me, you're their leader. At the middle of the trouble is the only place for a responsible leader to be."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I see bodies. Dozens and their blood on my hands." She turned to stare at Shal. "Then I remember Kolya."

Shalimar sat up straighter. "You remember what happened that day?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I've remembered what happened that day for a long time."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm dangerous. I know something he wants that has the potential to kill thousands."

"What?"

Elizabeth sat down next to him, grasping his hand tightly. "Kolya told me I knew something he needed to know. He tried to threaten me to give it to him. He tried bribing me. When I escaped he was about to try torturing me."

"What did you know?"

"The formula for a weapon; a weapon capable of wiping out an entire people."

"What people?"

"The Wraith."

* * *

Hey, Marianne! This is the sweaty man-on-man action I've been meaning to write for a long time. LOL. Just took longer to get here. 


	18. Sam's Town

**Chapter 18: Sam's Town**

_Oh, have you ever seen the lights?  
Have you ever seen the lights?_

* * *

She went to bed thinking she knew who she was. She slept and thought that she knew where she was going and who with. In dreams she found peace refused to her in reality and in amnesia. 

She woke up as Elizabeth and scrambled to catch up.

Grabbing the floor length robe that lay over the back of her desk chair, Elizabeth ran from her quarters with no thought to waking the sleeping warrior on her couch. It wasn't even dawn but she had no doubt that he'd be up. Though he portrayed the role of the laid-back charmer, underneath it all he was a trained professional who took great pride in waking before even his subordinates and getting in a run and some work out.

Then, to maintain the image he so carefully crafted, he slipped back into his quarters to pretend that he'd slept in.

Elizabeth and the night crew were one of few who knew his secret.

She found him in the gym doing stretches with Ronon. She ignored Ronon.

"John."

The sound of _her_ voice saying his _given_ name had Sheppard pausing mid-stretch and losing his balance. Ronon continued to stretch and fixed his gaze on the rumpled and dishabille Elizabeth. Sheppard pushed himself up off the floor and sauntered over to the door. "What can I do for you?"

"You can get your team together and prepare for an assault on Kolya's base."

It wasn't so much the words she said as much as the tone that got their attention. It wasn't the light carefree tone of Beth, but it was the confident and authoritative voice that only ever came out of Elizabeth's mouth. She held herself more rigid and stiff in the doorway and when she moved it was with purpose. The gentle and feline-like Beth was not in residence any longer, and Ronon almost found himself missing that vibrant chink in her armor.

"Excuse me?" Sheppard asked as he crossed his arms and studied the woman before him. There _was_ something different about her this morning, now wasn't there?

Elizabeth stepped close and cradled Sheppard's face in her hands. "John?"

"Yes?"

"I've given you an order. Go do it."

Realization dawned in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled as Sheppard rushed past her, a smile that faded as Ronon stood and slowly made his way over. He stood tall and intimidating next to her and she fought the flashes of "Beth" that made her want to flirt and maybe even touch his arm casually.

Elizabeth was back and in control...

...but she couldn't quite stop that sultry smile at the edges of her mouth.

"Ronon."

"Elizabeth."

They stared each other down. On the western wall, the one adorned with a large faceted window, the sun began to peak up over the horizon. The yellow light splintered through the glass and moved across his honey colored skin. Elizabeth became a bit fascinated by the play of light and her fingers twitched from the urge to touch him.

"You remember, now?" He asked, though the answer was fairly obvious. Maybe he just wanted to hear it from her. Would he feel relief that his Leader was whole and healed again, or would he feel regret for not having more time with Beth?

"Yes. I remember...everything." She put emphasis on that last word, a smile creeping out as she spoke.

Ronon nodded and stepped close. He brushed the back and his fingers down her soft cheek and whispered. "I think I'll miss her."

"She hasn't gone anywhere."

"She has."

Elizabeth shook her head, pressing her cheek into his hand. "No. She's just hiding now."

Ronon nodded again, slowly so that the few dreadlocks that slipped from the leather thong at the back of his head swayed back and forth in the light. "This is for Beth, then."

Elizabeth stared up at him, unsure of what he meant to do when he fisted one of his hands in her hair and pulled her head impossibly far back. He fastened his hard unyielding mouth to hers and her insides melted. Her knees felt weak and her hands clenched and relaxed where she gripped the lapels of his leather vest. She could feel the hard length of his knife pressing into her hip, or at least she hoped it was his knife.

When he finally pulled away her eyes had closed tight and her lips were full and lush from their kiss. He waited until she'd gathered the energy to look at him before releasing her. When she could safely stand on her own, he said nothing but swept past her.

Elizabeth waited until she was sure he was gone to sink limply to the floor with a sigh.

* * *

Dr. Beckett pulled out his pen light for the fifth time. 

Again, for the fifth time, he started to shine it in Elizabeth's eyes.

This time, however, she smacked it out of his hands before he could. "Don't do that."

"I'm just trying to ascertain that you are completely physically-"

"-and mentally fit," Elizabeth finished for him. "I understand that, but if you shine that light in my eyes again I'm going to break it."

Carson admonished her with a frown, "Elizabeth! This is my job, please let me do it." He ruined it all by smiling, however. "Nice to see some of that "Beth" charm sticking around. Think you'll flip Rodney like a hotcake again soon? I'd love to see that myself."

Elizabeth sighed and pressed her fingers to her aching eyes. "No, I am not flipping Rodney, and yes I know what day it is, what year I was born, what I did right before my sojourn to the Genii home world. I have my memory back, Carson, how many more questions are you going to ask me?"

Carson sighed. "As many as I feel necessary. Now, why don't you tell me why you're sending Colonel Sheppard's team after Kolya?"

Since it was a new line of questioning, one not focusing on her past, she answered him. "While I was his captive he kept questioning me about the virus we used on Michael. I don't know how he knows about it, and I want to. Either we have a leak within Atlantis, or..."

"...or Michael," Beckett finished for her this time. The treatment and ultimate situation of "Michael" was still a source of regret and guilt for the Scottish doctor. Most days he preferred to ignore what he considered a mar on his record. A lapse of judgment that resulted in one of the more infamous incidents here on Atlantis.

Elizabeth nodded as she slipped off the examination table and started for the door. "Exactly!"

"Elizabeth! We're not done!"

"Yes!" She called back with a wave. "We are!"

Dr. Beckett was not entirely pleased to note that along with some of "Beth's" charm, she retained some of her "bad patient" mentality as well.

* * *

The gateroom was a hive of activity as everyone prepared for an outgoing mission. Elizabeth stood above that den of movement and enjoyed the sight of so many people preparing. They all had a purpose, something that must be done for the process to be successful. The process, in this instance, was Sheppard's operation. He'd be taking his team, as well as three others, for the assault on Kolya's home base. 

Sheppard and Teyla stepped up beside her, all three of them standing at the top of the staircase leading down into the actual gateroom. Elizabeth glanced at them from the corner of her eyes, acknowledging their presence without words.

Teyla liked words though.

"It is good to see you well again, Elizabeth."

"It is good to be well. Has John explained to you what you're trying to find?"

"He has...tried, but I am still not sure what exactly we are searching for."

"Kolya knows about the Wraith virus. I want to know how. There are only a finite number of explanations. Getting into his base is the only way to find out."

Teyla listened, but asked another question. "Does he not have security? Men of his own to protect him?"

"I was there, Teyla. He has some men, maybe twenty, twenty-five. He left behind a lot of his supporters on the Genii homeworld when he escaped. I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's team can handle them."

She felt rather than saw Ronon join them. He remained standing behind the group, there but a part of them.

The floor below them began to clear of technicians and a number of soldiers began to line up at the bottom of the stairs. Elizabeth turned to the trio on the landing with her and smiled. "There's a chance Michael will be there so be watch out for him. If Kolya knows this, then there's no telling what he could know about us or our operation. I want him taken alive if he can be captured. Understand me, John?" She asked in a stern voice, not waiting for an answer before moving to the control room.

"Dial the gate," she commanded into the crowded room. She walked to a large bank of windows facing the Stargate and watched as small symbols began to light up. Symbols she'd remembered and had been able to tell them all about. If they'd had more time they might have alerted the Genii and offered to let them in on this raid.

However, maybe the Genii couldn't be totally trusted. Though they hadn't been officially told, surely some of the soldiers or scientists had made friends with some of the people. They might have told a few stories, stories that had gotten back to Kolya.

Officially, nothing that goes on in Atlantis can be spoken about to anyone outside of Atlantis without official dispensation.

Unofficially, friends talk and that cannot be controlled.

With the wormhole open and Sheppard ordering his men/women through the gate ready for combat, Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of her and struggled to remain calm. Her emotions were very close to the surface today. Perhaps an aftereffect of her recent amnesia and probably something she should have spoken to Carson about.

Ronon paused before he walked into the gate, and his eyes slid to hers.

Her eyes said what her mouth would not say.

_Be careful, Ronon._


	19. All These Things That I've Done

**A/N: This is it, people! The last chapter! I will be writing an epilogue, but darlings, and then it's over. I hope you've enjoyed the ride.**

**And, as always, go read my friend and favorite SGA author's stories. That is Marianne H. Stillie! She is truly brilliant and outdoes herself with every new story.**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: All These Things That I've Done**

* * *

She tried not to let the worry get to her.

As they say, however, old habits die hard.

She paced the confines of her office, smiling at the familiarity she now remembered to feel. There were small changes here and there from the last time she'd been in it, but it was still basically the same. The same desk, the same chair, the same view out the window; more than anything else, this room made her feel like she was well and truly herself again.

That and Rodney's overbearing superiority complex.

"I don't understand why I wasn't asked to join them. I am the intelligent member of the team! What if they need to form some sort of tactic or get themselves in a life-threatening situation-"

"-because that happens so often, right, Rodney?" Elizabeth interrupted as she slipped into her desk chair. "Kolya is dangerous and the entire mission risky. I'd rather not risk Atlantis'-" she hesitated before continuing, biting back the amusement, "-premier scientist. I'm sure you have a lot of work here to occupy your mind and time."

Rodney pouted and looked away. "I just feel a little left out."

"Rodney?"

"Yes?"

"Remember a few days ago when I flipped you like a pancake?"

"...yes."

"If you don't get out of my office I'll do it again."

"Goodbye, Elizabeth."

"Goodbye, Rodney," she replied with a smile, waiting until the door had shut behind him to sink her head into her hands. Since she'd watched her teams walk through the Stargate this morning Elizabeth could feel the slow drag of an approaching headache weighing at her. By now it was waging behind her eyes and making all colors seem a bit duller, yet the light way too bright. It was an odd contrast that only served to make her predicament worse.

A small knock at the door echoed across the room and she called out for whomever it was to enter without thinking. Carson's round and cheery face poked through, soon followed by his soft and rounded body. He shuffled in and around the desk, studying Elizabeth's face as he did so. "You look tired," he noted somewhat obviously in that thick Scottish brogue she could listen to for hours on end.

"I feel tired," she replied as she rubbed at her eyes.

"Today was a big day, Elizabeth. No one would blame you if you decided to cut it short, or at least took a few hours for yourself."

"The team should be contacting us soon. Until then," she gestured to the mounds of paperwork on her desk, "I've got papers to catch up on."

"I'm saying this as your doctor, Elizabeth. Go take a nap. Rest your mind for a little bit."

Elizabeth stood and grasped one of Carson's hands. "Thanks for your concern, but no."

He sighed and joined her in walking to the door. "You really are yourself again. I think I'm going to miss Beth. She was such an easier patient."

"You wish," she replied with a smile and a chuckle. Everyone in command glanced over at Elizabeth as if to assure themselves she was really there before getting on with there work. So far they'd done it every single time she'd stepped out of her office.

Before the argument could go any further, however, the Stargate began to dial up. She moved to the bank of windows that overlooked the large ring and waited for the wormhole to form. As usual with such events the tension in the room skyrocketed as everyone waited for the signal that this was either friend or foe.

When Sheppard keyed in his code the entire room breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed with the notable exception of one. Elizabeth became even tenser, waiting for her un-official favorite team to come through the 'gate and alleviate some of her fears.

Teyla came in first, frowning at something Sheppard must have said. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her face was flushed from either anger or exertion. On her heels came Sheppard, his mouth open and moving and clearly the reason for Teyla's frown and flush. That was the usual way of things, however. Sheppard said something mean or mocking, Teyla's good-natured prevailed and she scolded him, only to have it all repeat the next day.

Ronon always played the "straight man" to Sheppard; somber with only a certain flash in his eyes to betray his amusement. He, of course, followed Sheppard through the 'gate, but for the first time that she could remember he hesitated just on the inside of the 'gate, his brown eyes flickering up to find her.

Somehow just that look calmed the knots in her stomachs and replaced them with butterflies, which wasn't an altogether better feeling. Elizabeth couldn't stop the small smile the lifted the edges of her smile, or the slide of her fingers on the glass as the trio started up the staircase.

The frustration on all of their faces was much clearer up close. Whatever news they brought her wouldn't be good.

* * *

"Cleaned out?" 

Sheppard nodded and glanced at his two friends who flanked him in seats beside him. She'd kept her voice cool and calm but they could all hear a thread of tension in it. "It looks like they were in the midst of relocating when they were attacked by the Wraith. We found four bodies, all drained."

Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip and stared at the wall over their heads distantly. Her mind was very much elsewhere as she tried to remember the facts of her incarceration by the former Genii Commander. "A lot of Wraith, or just one?"

Sheppard cracked his neck from tension, and spoke quietly. "The damage is more on par with one Wraith than a ship-full. We found a couple cells in the middle of the compound; two of them looked like someone had been in there recently. We, uh, found this in one of them."

It was a watch.

Correction, it was Elizabeth's watch. She hadn't even noticed it was missing. Immediately upon seeing it her wrist felt torturing bare. She rubbed the skin on its usual wrist before reaching for the watch. She struggled to keep her face placid as she viewed the broken adornment.

"And the other cell?"

"I believe it was Michael," Teyla stated, ignoring the way Sheppard glared at her.

"We don't have any proof of that," Sheppard muttered under his breath.

"I can feel his energy there. Particularly in that cell."

Elizabeth nodded and stopped any argument Sheppard may have started. "Anything else?"

"No clues as to where they went. The bodies we found looked to be a prisoner escort."

"We'll catch him, Elizabeth," Teyla said as a way of comfort, though Elizabeth did not welcome it. She didn't want comfort or platitudes. She wanted justice, something that was not going to happen anytime soon.

"I want written reports on my computer by 0800 tomorrow," Elizabeth ordered as she stood and moved around the large table she used for debriefings. Her three friends stood as she neared them and she smiled at them. "In the meantime, get some rest. We've all had a..._trying_ couple of weeks."

Sheppard sighed mockingly. "There's an understatement."

Teyla grasped Elizabeth's forearms and smiled up at the taller woman. "It is good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Elizabeth replied. Teyla released Elizabeth only to watch with a large grin as Sheppard wrapped his long arms around her tightly, so tightly that he lifted her off the ground. Since they were the same height that was truly something to see.

"You're never allowed to leave again," Sheppard commanded as he released his commander and chief with a brief laugh. "Your job is hell."

"It's not so bad," she replied, patting his shoulder consolably. When he and Teyla had left she turned to the room's sole other occupant. He leaned against the table and watched her from beneath half-lidded bedroom eyes. "Do you have something to say as well?"

Ronon watched as she leaned over and grabbed the papers she'd left on the table. Her skin was pallid and her eyes red. Her movements stilted where they were usually laced with grace. "You look tired."

Elizabeth ignored the way his vest stretched around his back when he crossed his arms, and the way his eyes followed her every movement. "That's most likely because I am tired."

He smiled a little and waited until she'd turned back around and slid onto the table beside him. "You should go get some sleep."

"What is it with everyone wanting to put me to bed today?" She muttered under her breath.

"Hmm?"

She grinned and shook her head, sending small dark curls bouncing around her face. "You're the second person today to tell me to get some sleep. Too much to do to go to bed just yet. John isn't exactly proficient with paperwork, so there's a lot of it piled up."

Ronon nodded, because he understood that after a month of not being here there was a lot of work that needed to be done. All of Atlantis was backlogged, from the exploration teams to the scientists to the controllers. Not only had many things been put off without her here, but the things that were getting done had taken longer than usual. Morale had been very low for the past month.

"You too busy to eat?" He asked suddenly, looking away from her as he did.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked if you're too busy to eat."

She was a little shocked to tell you the truth. Ronon normally wasn't the type of person to seek out others' company, and the fact that he sought hers definitely was out of the norm. Then, however, Elizabeth thought on the past few days and realized that while out of the norm, it wasn't unwanted. "No, I'm not."

They waited in silence for a few moments, he stridently not looking at her, she gazing at him with a quirky half-smile on her face. A half-smile that with every minute of silence grew wider.

Finally, he sighed and cocked his head to the side, looking at her in what can only be described as mock-exasperation. "Do you want to come eat with me?"

"Sure," she replied, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow.

It was probably a bad idea.

Actually, almost surely it was a bad idea. Ronon was very attractive, and her will of late had been astonishingly weak around him. He was far too attractive to be safe, and during her time as "Beth" had managed to insinuate himself under her skin.

She didn't mind.


	20. Everything Will Be Alright

**Epilogue: Everything Will Be Alright**

* * *

"I think it's romantic." 

"You're five years old, what do you know about romantic?"

"Timothy, don't be mean to your sister," she scolded him before turning back to the dark-haired daughter she'd never known she wanted. "It is romantic."

"Did she love him forever and ever?" Beth asked from where she lay in her bed, covers pulled up to her shoulders. Her curls formed a dark halo around her head and she smiled shyly at her mother even as she turned and cuddled into the pillow.

Elizabeth fretted with the cover a bit before answering. "Yes. Yes, she did."

There was a small nightlight next to the bed and when the overhead light went off it cast the small bedroom in a comforting soft glow. Elizabeth wrapped one long arm around her son's neck and pulled him from his baby sister's room with a smile. He didn't push at the arm, at eight he was still young enough to not mind so much. He pressed his face into her stomach and stumbled with her to his room across the hall.

"I bet the prince and princess kissed a lot. That's disgusting."

"When you grow up you'll probably kiss a lot of girls."

"Like Uncle Gordy?"

"Yes, just like Uncle Gordy."

"Never! Girls are disgusting. Kissing is disgusting."

Elizabeth laughed and released Timothy long enough to pull up the covers on his bed. "If you say so. Time for bed, my son."

"Will you kiss me good night, my mother?" He asked sarcastically (a trait he'd surely learned from his Uncle Rodney).

She smiled against his forehead as she did so. She could hear heavy steps coming up the hall before entering Beth's room and sat on Timothy's bed to wait for their father to join her there. She could hear him murmuring to their daughter and making various soothing sounds before his steps echoed into the hall.

Their house was small but she loved it. It'd taken several months for it to be completed; he'd wanted to be a part of the process. It was on the coast of the mainland, no more than ten minutes from Atlantis in a Puddlejumper. Several other couples from Atlantis had also joined them in making houses on the mainland. The longer they stayed in this galaxy the more it became home. Most of them didn't even think of returning to Earth anymore.

A large shadow slid across the bed and Elizabeth's eyes naturally connected with his. Ronon smiled at the picture his wife made sitting beside their son and moved to kneel beside them. He passed a large callus-roughened hand over his son's coarse hair, so like his own, and slipped his other hand into Elizabeth's.

Timothy's eyes drooped with sleep but he smiled when he felt his father's touch. "Are you leaving again tomorrow, Papa?"

"Yes. I have a mission. I should be back in a few days, however."

"I miss you when you're gone..."

Timothy was already asleep when Ronon replied. "I miss you too." He turned to Elizabeth. "And you and our daughter."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lift her into his arms. "I miss you whenever you're not with me."

Ronon kissed her tenderly as they moved through the hall and into their own bedroom. All along the walls pictures were arranged. Pictures of their friends, Teyla with her arm around Elizabeth, John wrestling with Ronon. A large picture of all of them eating together in the Mess Hall.

Then the pictures begin to change. The people in them begin to pair off even as they clearly begin to age. Hair grows longer, lines appear around eyes. Teyla and John start to appear together in most of them, at first just near each other, then holding hands, then arms around each other and big smiles on their faces. Rodney stays alone in almost all of them, until the most recent. Then an attractive brunette appears at his side, though they're not yet at the "touching" stage. They stand near each other, smiling and clearly infatuated.

Carson left so many years ago that he's only a presence in the oldest photographs. Elizabeth has heard that back on Earth he'd married and had several children of his own. Through the years, though, the connection between him and Atlantis had faded.

Then there were the pictures of her and Ronon. In even the earliest they touched. Sometimes just a shoulder, then his hand on her waist. Then pictures of her pregnant, still fragile looking yet glowing with peace. His hand on her rounded stomach, a broad grin shockingly apparent on his face. The photos progress as expected. A baby appears, grows into a toddler, a boy with her fair skin and Ronon's hair and eyes. Silent and solemn as his father. Pictures of Ronon and Timothy sparring, Ronon letting his son beat him. Pictures of Timothy with various "aunts" and "uncles". Elizabeth was as modern as women come, but she'd been inordinately pleased to give Ronon a son.

On her feet again, she moved closer to the frames to gaze into them. She was fond of them all. After a few years of her son growing from babe to child, she became pregnant again. Not quite glowing as she had the first time, instead strained. Not as many photos of this pregnancy. What photos there were were happy but clearly tense. Ronon didn't smile this time, but held his woman close.

The little girl was all Elizabeth. Her hair, her eyes, her face. The first picture of Ronon holding his daughter is incredibly adorable. That large muscled man holding the tiny bundle in one hand. She remained that tiny bundle of energy in every picture since.

The largest picture on the wall, of course, is their wedding picture. Time and circumstance had prevented the event for many years. Something had always interfered.

Teyla held their daughter, John their son; matron of honor and best man, respectively. Elizabeth wore a cream colored floor-length dress, delicately sewn. Ronon wore his usual accoutrements, but of slightly better quality than normal.

Elizabeth rubbed her fingers along the frame and remembered that day not long ago. She'd been so happy, but it did not compare to the happiness she felt when round with Ronon's child.

She turned to her husband with a smile he recognized and knew to fear. "Ronon?"

"Yes?" He replied in his deep gravelly voice. He watched as she wrapped her arms around him, her head over his heart. He ran his fingers through her curls; she hadn't cut her hair in so long it now fell to the middle of her back and then some. In exchange for not cutting her hair, she'd asked him to shave off his beard.

He'd been helpless to say no.

When she'd requested that of him she'd been smiling just like she was now.

"I want a baby."

"You have two of them, already." Ronon said through the sudden choking hold on his throat.

She looked up at him with wide appealing eyes. "I want another."

He removed her arms from around him and sat on their bed with a sigh. "Last time it was very difficult for you. I almost lost you and Beth."

Elizabeth nodded and slid into his lap. "I know it was hard for us. That's why I haven't asked since. I think it's time, though. I feel better than I have in years."

"But a baby?" He asked incredulously.

She laughed against his lips and slid her hands under his shirt. "Yes, a baby."

"You'll be the death of me, woman," he growled into her throat, pulling her down onto the bed with him.

Elizabeth chuckled. "You'll enjoy it. I love you, Ronon."

He fisted his hand in her hair and drew her head back, nipping at her throat gently. "And I you."

They'd name their next child Sarah.

* * *

Fin 


End file.
